


Can't Help Falling in Love

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 61
Words: 106,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7420954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of fluff fics based on Tumblr prompts! Some are angsty, but most of this is fluffy. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakfast in Bed

_[sailorchibimoonunicorn](http://sailorchibimoonunicorn.tumblr.com/):  Olicity Breakfast in bed. After they leave at the end of season 3 _

* * *

 

Oliver opened his eyes and let them adjust to the pale yellow light of the sunrise. He groaned, feeling the soreness in his muscles from last night’s…activities. He smiled to himself, turning his head to look at Felicity. His hand instinctively reached for her, and he frowned when she wasn’t there. He rolled onto his stomach, the bed sheet draped over his waist, his back exposed. He hesitated, really feeling how spent he was. He dropped his head to the pillow with a deep sigh.

Oliver hadn’t noticed her, but Felicity stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, watching him toss around in the bed; _their_ bed. She smiled, realizing that it was a term that she could really get used to. It didn’t matter what city or place they were in, it was more…what they did in the bed that made it forever ingrained in her memory. It made it theirs.

She stood at the end of the bed, “Long night?” she asked. Oliver opened his eyes and turned his head to glance at her, his eyes roaming down her body, cladded in one of his t-shirts that barely touched her thighs. He let his head fall back down, wondering if there was anything she _didn’t_ look sexy in. “Yes. And if you keep walking around in my shirts, it’ll be an even longer morning.” he replied, closing his eyes.

Felicity bit her lip and crawled over him. His eyes opened, his eyebrow raising. She stopped just where the sheet covered him, laying her body over his. He inhaled, and she smirked. She bent over and pressed a kiss to a scar on his back. And then continued up his spine, her hair tickling him all the way.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He mumbled. Felicity laughed, the sound arousing, but not more than when she took his ear lobe into her mouth. Oliver clenched his jaw. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Mm-mm.” she replied cutely, shaking her head so that her lips brushed over his neck. “I made you breakfast.”

Oliver hesitated, “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, resting her cheek to his back, between his shoulder blades. "Pancakes.“

Oliver just nodded, “Okay,” he said, his voice uncomfortable.

Felicity picked her head up from his back, “What?”

“Nothing. Let’s go eat.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes, “Oliver, it was _one time_!”

“Felicity,” he chuckled, "that one time was _horrible_! I thought I was eating charcoal. All of the other times were just _bad_.“

Felicity’s mouth fell open and she slapped her hand to his shoulder, right over his tattoo. Oliver just laughed, utter happiness flowing through him that this was what their fights consisted of. Ever since they left Starling, they hadn’t had a disagreement that didn’t involve cooking skills, directions, or where to go to dinner. Except for the time he’d told her that her toes looked like fingers. Her voice had gotten high pitched and defensive then, too. Oliver’s smile widened.

"Hm.” She said, her voice high. The next thing he knew, her warm body was leaving him, the weight of her lying across his back gone.

“Whoa, where are you going?” He asked, turning over and onto his elbow to look at her. She just held up her index finger to him, unamused, before leaving the room. Oliver raised an eyebrow, watching her back; the shirt wasn’t long enough to cover her ass, and he got a glimpse of her black underwear as she retreated.

He listened as she clanked around in the kitchen, and a moment later she returned. She held two glass bowls in either hand, one with strawberries and one with whipped cream. “ _Oh_ ,” He said, his eyes widening and a bright smile spreading across his face, ” _That_ is _so_ much better than pancakes.“ he said, his voice excited as he imagined whipped cream on her skin.

Felicity had to bite her lip to keep from smiling, reminding herself that she was still mad at the cooking crack he’d made. She had to look away from him, because his face was lit up like a child at Disney World, and she knew she’d give in.

To his torment, she sat down in the chair across the room instead of coming to him. She crossed her legs, “Were you hungry?” She asked innocently.

Oliver’s eyes darkened, but his smile held, “In more ways than one, now.”

Felicity matched his stare before bringing a strawberry to her mouth. “Mmm.” She moaned, closing her eyes. “These are _so_ good, Oliver. Too bad I’m not sharing.”

He frowned, “Why not?”

“I don’t share with people who insult my cooking.”

He groaned, “That’s not fair. I was just being honest.”

“You were mean.” She replied, dipping her finger into the whipped cream and sucking it off. Oliver fell back onto the bed with another groan, and she laughed.

“I’m sorry!” He bellowed, his arms flying in the air above him and dropping back to the bed with a thud.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, sitting back up, his eyes hopeful.

She nodded, “I’m an awful cook. It’s really not news.” She shrugged, beckoning him with her finger.

Oliver sighed in relief, his smile returning as he rolled off of the bed and reached her in three steps. His mouth dropped to hers, his hands on her bare legs. As he kissed her, Felicity used her finger to place whipped cream on the base of her neck. “ _Oops_ ,” she teased.

Oliver’s eyes fell to her neck before his lips did. “I love you.” He mumbled into her throat.

She giggled, his lips and breath tickling her, “Yeah, you love me, just not my cooking. Got it.”


	2. Bars, Darts, and Jealousy

_[sailorchibimoonunicorn](http://sailorchibimoonunicorn.tumblr.com/):  Felicity and Oliver having a drink at a bar while playing darts. Felicity notices another woman undressing Ollie with her eyes. Does this make sense? Lol I am going to live in your ask if you keep up these fics haha _

* * *

She’d agreed to play with him only because he’d gotten so excited when he saw the dart board. She knew he missed the whole aiming sharp things at a target part of his life since they’d left.

And she had tried. Her first few shots had gone into the wall instead of anywhere on the board. And then he’d come up behind her to help, and even though the darts that he guided landed on the board, she was too distracted by his lips outside of her ear and the low tone of his voice to remember anything he was trying to teach her.

It took her four more tries on her own, but finally, with her tongue between her lips, she’d thrown a dart and it had landed on the board. she’d jumped up and down, throwing her arms over her head and turning around to Oliver with her mouth open. But then the dart fell off of the board, and she’d dropped her arms and grumbled about getting another drink while he chuckled.

So she ordered her shot first. And then she sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to make her strawberry daiquiri.

The place was busy, people flowing in and out as music could be heard all the way down the street. It was her first time on Bourbon Street, and she’d never seen or felt anything like it. Everyone was so alive. The atmosphere was electric, and Oliver and Felicity had definitely felt the magic of it right along with the crowd.

She tipped her shot back as she watched him. And it was like he felt her gaze, because he turned around and immediately met her eyes. Felicity’s face twisted and she quickly sucked on the lime that the bartender had placed over her shot. He was across the bar, but she could tell that he laughed at her, hearing it in her head.

She shook her head at him slightly, wondering how any of this was even possible. That she went to bed with Oliver ever night and woke up with him every morning. That they were _happy_. It was so easy to be with him. Maybe it was some kind of honeymoon effect that their little vacation was causing, but she didn’t even care. Reality didn’t seem to matter if she’d have these memories to hold on to.

Oliver winked at her and turned his attention back to the board, and Felicity glanced around the crowd. A dark haired woman a few tables away from Oliver caught her attention. It wasn’t that the woman was looking at him, Felicity was used to girls noticing Oliver. It was impossible not to. But they usually stopped ogling as soon as they realized that he wasn’t going to notice them; as soon as he wrapped his arms around her or kissed her.

It was the look in the woman’s eyes that caught Felicity’s attention. She looked at him like a shark circling her bait; waiting for the right moment to make her move. The look in her eye was aggressive, like she wanted to devour Oliver.

Felicity glanced back at the bartender, who seemed swamped. Felicity didn’t want to rush him or anything, but she really just felt like striding over to Oliver and kissing him until that woman focused her gaze elsewhere.

The woman stood up and made her way towards Oliver. Felicity cocked her head to the side, curiosity rising. The woman came up beside him, brushing her arm against his. Oliver looked down at her with a smile, but it dropped quickly and then his eyes found Felicity. Felicity covered her mouth with her fingers to keep from laughing, realizing that he’d thought the woman was her.

He took a step away from the lady and held out his hand. She wasn’t the best lip reader, but she could tell that he’d introduced himself. The woman took his hand and shook it, stepping closer to him again. Felicity could only see the back of her head, and she had no idea what she was saying to him. But she wasn’t wrong about this woman’s aggressiveness, apparently…Oliver raised an eyebrow before smiling tightly, his body stiffening. He pulled his hand away from hers and shook his head slightly.

The bartender placed the drink in front of her then, and Felicity picked it up and made her way through the crowd to Oliver. He seemed to relax when he saw her coming, immediately wrapping his arm around waist. “Oh,” the woman sighed, placing her hand over her chest, “You are just the cutest thing. Are you Oliver’s sister?”

Oliver snorted and Felicity raised an eyebrow, her focus on this woman. “ _Girlfriend_ , actually. Felicity.” She held out her hand.

The woman put on a fake, evil-looking smile as she glanced down at Felicity’s hand like it was covered in diseases or something. She shook it anyway, using just her fingers and dropping them as quickly as she could. Her eyes were on Felicity with nothing but judgment. “Oh, I’m sorry. You guys just look so much alike.”

Felicity couldn’t help but find humor in this woman’s attempt. Like Oliver would suddenly be repulsed by Felicity and want to take _her_ home instead. Felicity turned her head to look up at Oliver, who scrunched his nose and shook his head. Felicity laughed, smiling at the woman, “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Brittany.”

“Well, Brittany, it’s nice to meet you.” She answered in her best polite voice before taking a sip of her drink.

The woman cocked her head to the side, giving Felicity another quick look up and down before rolling her eyes and turning her attention back to Oliver. She held out a napkin, “You should call me sometime.”

Felicity choked on her drink, coughing as the woman stared at her and Oliver rubbed his fingers against her back. "Sorry, sorry,“ Felicity mumbled, looking back at Brittany. Her reaction was completely out of surprise at this woman. This woman who was offering Oliver her phone number while he had his arm around Felicity…this woman who didn’t bother to hide her dissatisfaction that Felicity even existed.

She held the napkin out closer, and Felicity glanced up at Oliver. He stared at this Brittany woman for another moment before shaking his head no, his face stern. Brittany raised her eyebrow, stepping forward and reaching to place the napkin in the pocket of his shirt, “If you change your mind.”

Oliver caught her wrist before she could touch him, “I won’t.” He said harshly, dropping the woman’s hand. Her face turned red and she gave Felicity one final glare before retreating. 

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed, “You didn’t have to be rude to her.”

Oliver laughed once, “She was rude to _you_! I don’t know how you were so nice to her, Felicity. Well I mean, I do, of course. It’s just who you are. But still.”

Felicity stepped back and took his hand, “I don’t mean this in a bad way, but aren’t you kind of used to having to turn women down?” She questioned, thinking about his past.

Oliver shook his head, meeting her eyes, “I wasn’t really the kind of guy who turned them down, Felicity.”

Felicity raised her chin, “And now?”

He smiled down at her, “Now it’s just you. My _girlfriend_.” Oliver answered, drawing out the word.

Felicity scoffed at the expression on his face, “What?” she asked, leading him out onto the street.

“I just haven’t heard you call yourself that before.” He shrugged, saying it like it wasn’t a big deal. But he was beaming. He smiled down at her, his fingers laced through hers.

“Your girlfriend?” She asked, her voice teasing as she led him through the street, sipping her drink, "Oliver, I think that when we rode off into the sunset, it was heavily implied that we’re _together,_ together _.“_

Oliver was still smiling, ” _My_ girlfriend.“ he sighed, lifting her hand up to brush his lips over her fingers as they walked.


	3. Taylor Swift Karaoke

_[orlythestark](http://orlythestark.tumblr.com/):  Can you write a fic where Felecity and Oliver go to a bar and she ends up drunk singing at the bar like Stephen Amell and Oliver records her singing like taylor swift or something and she constantly stops singing in the middle to tell Oliver how much she loves him? Also can you tag me in fics? _

* * *

Oliver had probably had a few too many beers. He’d been so wrapped up in Felicity, her hips swaying to the music and her adorable giggling, that he just wanted to join her in her drunken bliss. But as he peed, he realized how much alcohol he had actually consumed. He was drunk. And he knew that if he was drunk, Felicity was hammered.

He tried to think about how many margaritas she’d had as he washed his hands. As he walked out of the bathroom, he realized that he wasn’t even considering the glasses of wine she’d had at the hotel. He scratched his head and glanced around the crowd, looking for her. A few more seconds went by, and he couldn’t see her anywhere. Oliver immediately felt sober; his eyes frantically searching the room as he kicked himself for not realizing her state and staying with her.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the bathroom, it felt like it took him way too long to calculate her alcohol intake, so he had no idea how far she could have gone.

“Oliver Queen!” He heard her voice boom through the sound system. His eyes snapped up to the nearest speaker, and then he looked up at the stage. Felicity was watching him, wiggling her fingers and smiling, “I love Oliver Queen.” She sighed into the microphone, raising her shoulders. Oliver laughed, pushing his way through the crowd. When he reached the stage, she got down on her knees, smiling widely and showing him her microphone. “I’m gonna sing for you.” She slurred.

Oliver shook his head, trying to fight his smile. The panic he’d had over thinking he’d lost her caused his inebriation to fade very quickly. He barely felt buzzed. “Felicity, I don’t think you want to do that.”

“No, no, no.” She shook her head adamantly, “I do.”

“Um, miss?” Oliver glanced up at the young guy as he gestured to the stage, “They’re ready for you.”

Felicity clapped her hands, jumping up and stumbling. Oliver instinctively held his hands out even though he couldn’t reach her. She wobbled into the boy’s arms, and he graciously steadied her. She pulled back, tapping her hands over his shoulders before running off towards the band.

The band began to play, and Felicity tried to keep up with the music. Oliver immediately pulled out his phone and started recording.

She was off-key, slurred, and a little behind the notes, but her voice still had him raising his eyebrows. She was good. He wondered what she would sound like sober. Oliver recognized the song as Love Story by Taylor Swift, but even intoxicated, Felicity knew every word.

“ _Oliver_ , take me, somewhere we can be alone! I’ll be waiting, all that’s left to do is run!” She pointed to him, laughing through the words when she noticed the camera. "You’ll be the prince, and I’ll be the princess! It’s a love story, baby just say yes!“

She walked across the stage to him, “I love you!” She shouted into the mic, waving to the camera and blowing a kiss. He laughed, hollering as she took off to the other side of the stage. He screamed her name, throwing a fist in the air and chanting for her. She continued to throw his name into the song and stumble to keep up because she’d get distracted by him; needing to wave and giggle as he yelled her name. The crowd was loving her, the whole bar was in an uproar, but his voice cut through all of them, and she kept glancing down at him as she sang.

People began to realize that the girl on stage was with him, and the drunk people took the opportunity to give him shots. He held his phone in one hand and knocked back four while she sang. It was enough to get his drunkenness back.

As Felicity sang the last notes, she threw her arms in the air, beaming down at him as he cupped his hand over his mouth to cheer along with the rest of her audience. “Take me, Romeo!” She shouted, raising her arms for him to catch her. Oliver fumbled with his phone as he caught her when she dropped from the stage, giggling the whole way.

Oliver glanced down at her, “Hi.” He smiled.

“Hi.” She giggled some more.

“You’re drunk.” He raised an eyebrow.

Felicity ran her fingers in his hair, clutching herself closer to him, “You’re perfect.” Oliver chuckled, turning the camera off and swinging her around so that she was on his back. The crowd cheered and clapped, but all Oliver heard was the miserable groaning noise that his girlfriend was making.

“You good?” He asked, thankful that the crowd cleared a path for them, leading right to the door. She groaned some more as he made his way to the exit, nuzzling her face into his back.  

Once they were outside, Oliver gently placed her feet on the ground, and she immediately ran into the alley, vomiting on the side of the building. Oliver rushed to her side, holding her hair in one fist while he rubbed soothing circles on her back with the other.

She woke up the next morning to her phone going off and a pounding headache. She threw a pillow over her head and groaned. Her eyes narrowed when she heard him chuckle. She slowly removed the pillow to glare up at him, lying with his back against the headboard, a cup of coffee in one hand and the sports section in the other. “Go away.” She grumbled, slamming the pillow back over her head.

He laughed some more, tossing the newspaper near his feet. He pulled at her pillow, “Felicity,” He said gently, “I have a big glass of water and some ibuprofen for your hangover…” He tried again with the pillow, but she just sighed. He rubbed her arm, “I also have a cup of coffee; black with three sugars, and the cartoon section of the newspaper for you.”

She peeked her head out, holding her palm open. He dropped the pills into her hand and smiled at her. She rolled her eyes, tossing the pills into her mouth. She sat up, and he handed her the water. After drinking half of it, she narrowed her eyes at him, “How are you not hung-over?”

He shrugged, grabbing his newspaper again, “I don’t get hangovers.”

She glared, “I hate you.”

He raised an eyebrow, not taking his eyes off of his sports section, “That’s not what you said last night. ‘I love you!’” he repeated, holding his hand to his mouth as a microphone, ’“Oliver, take me, somewhere we can be alone!’” He mimicked her, his eyes closing as he sang into his hand mic.

Felicity laughed, “That’s a little hazy. Please tell me I didn’t really yell that I loved you in the middle of that song. Or changed the words to have your name in it.” She pressed her hands to her face.

Oliver smirked, adjusting his paper in front of him, “Oh yes. You did. For the whole song.” He smirked at her hidden face, "I got it on video. Dig is going to have a field day with it.“

Felicity groaned again, falling over so that her head fell to his chest. He kissed her hair as he laughed, scratching his fingers over her scalp. “It was amazing, Felicity. You were absolutely adorable. The whole bar was cheering.”

She shook her head, “I can’t believe I did that. I’ve _never_ done anything like that. No more tequila. Never again.” She groaned, feeling nauseous just at the thought of touching alcohol again.

Oliver’s phone began to ring, and he answered it still laughing. She rested her head on his chest so that she could see his face; a wide smile as he glanced down at her, “Thea,” he greeted. Felicity smiled too, kissing his chest lightly and grazing his shirt with her fingers. “What video?” He asked, his brows furrowing, “Did I send that to you last night?” He asked.

Felicity picked her head up just in time to see Oliver's eyes go wide. He turned Thea to speaker phone. “Ollie, I am literally watching Felicity fall off of a stage and into your arms right now. It has over a million views.”

“ _What_!?” Felicity shrieked.

“You’re an online sensation, woman!” Thea couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh my god! I can’t wait to show this to Roy,” she said through her giggles.

Oliver tried to read Felicity’s surprise; if she was angry, embarrassed, amused by it… “We’ll talk to you later, Speedy.” He said before hanging up. He touched Felicity’s face, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that the whole world now knows how embarrassingly in love with you that I am.” She said, biting her lip.

Oliver nodded, his face stern, “That could be dangerous.”

Felicity glanced up to meet his eyes, “Yes.” She said simply, watching his eyes, “But I’m kind of glad they know you’re mine.” She smiled slightly, offering a shy shrug.

Oliver cocked his head to the side, sighing. He didn’t mind that at all. He shook his head, slowly pressing his lips to hers. “I’m embarrassingly in love with you, too.” He smiled against her lips before pushing her back against the pillows and resting himself on top of her, deepening the kiss.


	4. A Puppy Named Cupid

_Anonymous: can you write a fic about a puppy Felicity adopts (without telling Oliver)?being in the foundry with the team ? but then Oliver and the puppy bond and Felicity gets jealous ? and Felicity names it something funny and creative _

* * *

Thea walked beside Felicity, staring at her as they reached her townhouse, “He’s going to kill you.”

Felicity pulled her lips away from the puppy’s head, “He will not. Oliver is going to love you, won’t he, Cupid? Yes he will! Oh, yes!“ 

Thea rolled her eyes as Felicity spoke to the dog in a baby voice. “He’ll kill you for that name, too.”

“It suits her! She’s such a love bug!” Felicity argued, hugging the puppy closer.

"Or a psychotic bitch who murders for fun." Thea mumbled under her breath.

Thea carried the bag of dog food and bowls, while Felicity held the pink leash in her hand. "How can you not love this face?“ Felicity asked, holding the dog out to Thea. Thea scrunched her nose, pressing her lips between the dog’s eyes.

Thea glanced up at her, "Felicity, Oliver doesn’t really seem like the puppy kind of person. We’ve _never_ had a pet in our house. He won’t even know what to do with it.” She laughed.

Felicity opened the door to her apartment, gesturing for Thea to place the bag on the floor in the kitchen. She pursed her lips, “Do you really think he’ll be angry? I don’t mean for Cupid to be like, _our_ dog. I wanted her. Oliver doesn’t even need to spend time with her if he doesn’t want to.”

Thea smiled, sitting on the floor and holding her arms out for Cupid. Felicity placed her on Thea’s lap, moving into the kitchen to set up her food and water dishes. “I don’t know, Felicity. My brother is impossible to read.”

Felicity sighed, “Okay. You’re not helping. I just need to call him.” She shrugged, trying not to panic too much. She pulled out her phone and tapped his speed dial.

Thea chuckled, “I think he’d take it better if you said you cheated on him over _this_.” She said, adjusting Cupid on the floor between her legs. Felicity glared at her while Thea ignored her, giggling when the puppy immediately rolled onto her back. Felicity bit her lip as the phone rang, watching Thea giggle and rub Cupid’s belly.

“Hey, baby,” he answered cheerfully, “Are you and Thea done shopping? I was thinking we could get Mexican for dinner tonight? I liked those tacos from that place on the corner of Smith.”

“Oliver,”

“Should I pick some up on my way over, or do you want to go out somewhere else? I don’t really mind. Just no more sushi. I don’t even know how you eat so much of the stuff. It’s not even-”

“ _Oliver_.”

He laughed, “Sorry.”

Felicity hesitated, “I-” She paused, “Well, Oliver, um…” she glanced at Thea, her eyes widening in desperation. Oliver cleared his throat in the silence and Thea shrugged. “Oh my god,” Felicity sighed, glancing at Cupid while she gripped her forehead in her palm. “I don’t know why I can’t just get this out already.”

“Felicity…”

“I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous. I did something. And I don’t know how you’re going to react to it…and I’ve had Thea in my ear making me even more nervous and I don’t even know how to tell you.” She exhaled, "Please don’t be angry.“

"Felicity,” He sighed, “I have a feeling that whatever you need to tell me is not nearly as bad as what I’m thinking right now, so please just…take a deep breath and say it.”

Felicity sighed, closing her eyes, “I got a puppy.”

There was a long pause. “A puppy?”

“Her name is Cupid.”

“ _Cupid?_ ”

“This breeder was at the street fair that Thea and I found. And Cupid was the last one there. They were about to take her back, Oliver! All of her brothers and sisters had been adopted. She was all alone. I didn’t have a choice. She needed me.”

Oliver hesitated, “Needed you?”

She groaned, “Could you please stop repeating everything that I say?”

Oliver chuckled slightly, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Felicity asked.

“Does she make you happy?”

“Happy?”

Oliver laughed, “Now you’re the one repeating,” he continued to chuckle, “Does it make you happy that you have…Cupid?”

“Yes, but…I just don’t want you to think that I expect you to take care of her, or to be her parent or something. She doesn’t have to be _our_ dog.”

Oliver laughed again, “You really did let Thea work you up, didn’t you?”

Felicity slowly turned around to glare at Thea, who gave her quizzical look as Cupid squirmed in her arms. “Yeah, I did.” She raised her eyebrow, "So you’re not mat at me?“

"Felicity,” Oliver chuckled, “I’m a little surprised, sure. But not that surprised. You’re the kind of woman who goes to a street fair and comes home with a puppy…and I kind of find it beautiful; _you_ beautiful.” He paused while Felicity turned away from Thea, biting her lip to fight the big dorky smile on her face. "I’ll be over around 7. I love you. And tell my sister to stop messing with my girlfriend.“

* * *

A week later, Felicity came into the foundry to find Oliver shirtless and sweaty on the training pads; down on his hands and knees as he got Cupid riled up, laughing as she ran from one side of the room to the other, barking at him when he slapped his hands to the mat.

Felicity knelt down when she got to the bottom of the stairs, "Hi my baby!” She sang, reaching out for the puppy, who bolted in the opposite direction, right into Oliver’s arms. He fell back, resting Cupid on his chest and scrunching his nose as she licked his face. Felicity stood upright, “Hi my other baby.” She said, notably less enthusiastic.

Oliver glanced at her and smirked, “Hello, my pretty girl. How was your day?”

“Good until my first child just decided that she loves you more than me.”

Oliver snorted, “You should probably get used to it. All of our kids are going to love me more.”

Felicity hesitated, setting her bag on the chair, she watched him as he raised Cupid above his head. She smiled to herself, picturing Oliver as a dad…as a dad who argued with her over who was the best parent. A dad who made school lunches and read bed-time stories.

Felicity hit the button on Oliver’s phone, wanting to check the time and knowing that the team would be down soon. Her mouth dropped at the sight of his background; a picture of him with Cupid. Felicity held up his phone, “ _Really_ Oliver? I got replaced by my dog?” She asked, referring to his previous background, which was one of her from their vacation. She’d been lying on the beach in a black bikini, laughing with her face squinting up at the sun and a flower in her hair. It was one of her favorites. And his.

Oliver shrugged, “Revenge for naming her Cupid.”

“It’s funny!” Felicity argued for the millionth time. Everyone fought her on it. Diggle had insisted that she change it. "Cupid. Arrows. Green Arrow. _Arrows_.“ Felicity crossed the room and took Cupid from Oliver’s arms. "If you’re going to pick on me, then Cupid and I will go somewhere else!”

Oliver jumped up, laughing as he caught Felicity’s waist and pulled her back, pressing his bare chest to her back. He nuzzled her neck, “Are you jealous of _me_ because Cupid likes me more? Or are you jealous of _Cupid_ because I like her more?”

Felicity frowned, “ _My_ boyfriend. _My_ puppy. I should be the common interest.” She teased, “I should be the favorite. And the phone background.” Oliver chuckled, reaching around her and taking his phone from her hand. He held out the camera in front of him, pressing his lips to Felicity’s hair while she held Cupid up and laughed. 

 He glanced down at the picture, resting his lips to her shoulder and smiling. “I think you’re right where you’re supposed to be.” He said, pressing a few soft kisses to her skin, reaching his hand up to scratch their new puppy’s head. “Both of you.”


	5. Moving In

_Anonymous: Hii are you still doing prompts? If you do, can you write a lazy moorning un bed, one of them wakes up and turn off the alarm and estar talking about things that happened before they got together. Like she asking him why he cheat on laurel. _

* * *

Oliver groaned at the sound of the alarm clock, throwing his arm over Felicity’s chest to shut it off. He hit every button that he could feel, but the persistent sound of pop music blaring wouldn’t stop. He let out a frustrated breath, grabbing the whole thing and ripping it from the wall. He dropped the alarm clock on the floor and glanced down at Felicity, who stared up at him with raised eyebrows. “Did you just break my alarm clock?” She asked, her voice amused.

Oliver fell back onto his pillow, “You have an annoying alarm clock.” He muttered, closing his eyes again.

Felicity rolled onto her stomach, sprawling herself across his chest. He heaved, wrapping his arms around her and opening his eyes. Oliver brushed her hair off of her shoulders, pushing it all behind her and running his hands down her back. He watched as she closed her eyes. “That’s what they’re for, Oliver,” she said breathily with her eyes still closed, his hands in her hair feeling way too good. Oliver was distracted by her face, her hair under his hands, and her breasts pressed to his chest.

 _“What?”_ He asked, forgetting what they’d been talking about.

“Alarm clocks.” She said, dropping her head and pressing her lips to his chest, “They’re meant to be annoying so that you get your ass out of bed.”

“But we don’t need to get our asses out of bed today. And I’m a light sleeper. We definitely don’t need a One Direction concert in our bedroom every morning to wake me up.”

Felicity laughed, smiling into his chest at his use of ’ _our_ bedroom’. “Well,” she said, her breath ghosting over his skin. His fingers gripped her back. “What about me?” She asked lazily.

“I’ll wake you up. I can think of a few good ways to get you feeling energized every morning.”

She giggled, “But you’re not always here,” she replied, running her lips over his scar from Ra’s.

Oliver bit his lip, instinctively pulling her body tightly against his. She didn’t know it, but her lips on that scar always got his heart racing. He took a deep breath, knowing that this was exactly the moment he’d been waiting for. He just hadn’t been expecting it to be exactly _that_ moment; in her bed on a Friday morning with her lips pressed to his chest. “Maybe I could be?” He said hesitantly.

She was making a journey across his chest with her lips, but she froze at his words. He’d intended to bring the topic up much more confidently; maybe even make a power point to persuade her of his reasons. Instead he’d blurted it out like an unsure question. “What?” She asked with her lips still on his skin, not picking her head up to look at him.

Oliver sighed, “I was just thinking…that we could, you know, move in together.” He winced at his own awkwardness, amazed that after all of the thought he’d put into it, he was still a rambling mess. He blamed her for that new trait of his.

She picked her head up now to look into his eyes. Felicity stared at him for a long moment, “Are you _sure_?”

Oliver nodded adamantly, “I know I don’t really sound like it right now, but I’ve thought a lot about this, Felicity. I want to. I told you that I wanted to be with you, and I didn’t just mean for five months.”

Felicity glanced away, she’d given it plenty of thought herself, and she knew that she wanted nothing more than to move in with him. She just didn’t want to be the one to suggest it; the Laurel story was still burned in her mind despite how irrational it was to think like that. She worried that if she asked him to move in, that he’d run.

Hotel hopping and living out of their suitcases for five months was very different than what they were talking about. “It’s not exactly going to be like last summer.” She said slowly, meeting his gaze again.

Oliver stared down at her, trying to read her expression. “I know. It’ll be _better_.” He said softly.

She paused, wanting desperately to just say yes. “Oliver,” She took a deep breath before letting all of her fears out in one long, rambling, breath, "I just want to make sure that this is what you really want. I want to make sure that you’ve thought about this thoroughly. We’re happy right now. Moving in together is a big step. It’s not something we can do lightly, and I don’t want you to do this just because you feel like you have to. I know you’ve been there before with Laurel, and I don’t want anything to change between us. It’s going to be hard. And I know we spend almost every night together anyway, but if it’s official…if my place becomes our place, then there’s just a lot of pressure and I don’t want it to freak you out, because I _really_ love you and I don’t want you to get scared and-“

He cut her off with a kiss. “I am _not_ scared.” He growled against her lips. Felicity’s breath hitched in her throat, and she scrambled to get on top of him. She rocked her hips into his and he moaned, his hands caught in her hair as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Felicity pulled away suddenly, sitting up from where she straddled him, and Oliver followed, pushing up onto his elbows. Felicity’s breath was uneven, “Okay,” she managed, “You’re sure?”

“ _Felicity._ ” Oliver grumbled, pulling her face back to his. “Yes. Please don’t ask me that again.” He said, shaking his head slightly.

She nodded, her nose rubbing against his, “Okay. Okay,” She breathed, “I love you.”

Oliver smiled, “I love you, too.”


	6. Bets

_Anonymous: Can you write a fic where Oliver and Felicity get into a fight about if Felecity is more obsessed with technology or Oliver is more obsessed with working out so they bet on who will last for a longer time _

* * *

“Felicity,” Oliver said from the top rung of the salmon ladder. She had her back to him, bent over one of her computers. He raised an eyebrow at the view of her back in her pink skirt. He dropped from the ladder, picking up a towel and wiping his face with it. He came up behind her, pressing his palms to her hips and rubbing himself against her.

Felicity shot upright, stepping away from him, “Not now.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed, “Why not? We hardly get any time alone together anymore. No one’s coming in today.”

Felicity pursed her lips, “Yeah. I know.” She clipped, turning on her heel and clicking her way to her other computers.

Oliver followed, “Wait. Are you _mad_?”

“No, Oliver. Just busy.”

Oliver bit his lip, “Have I done something to upset you, Felicity?” She shook her head, her eyes trained on her screen. He knew that she had some kind of glitch on one of her computers that she’d been trying to fix for the past few days, but the issue didn’t seem so drastic that she needed to ignore him over it. She was mad. He used his index finger to turn her chin towards him. “Tell me.” He said, his eyes pleading with her.

She sighed, “This morning…before you went for your run.”

Oliver gave her an odd look, “I made you breakfast…and then you went to take a shower and I left.”

“ _Between_  breakfast and leaving.” She deadpanned.

Oliver shrugged, “I kissed you?”

“And what did _I_ do?”

Oliver hesitated, knowing that if he said he couldn’t remember…he’d be in trouble. And even if he could, she was mad anyway. “Would you just tell me what this is about?”

“This morning…I wanted to…you know,” she raised an eyebrow, “And you couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.”

“ _Oh_ ,” he said, thinking back. He’d been pretty focused on getting out for his run, and it didn’t occur to him until that moment how Felicity had kissed him; a low moan sounding in her chest, her arms wrapping around his neck, and her fingers in his hair. If he hadn’t been so distracted… “I’m an idiot,” he mumbled, grabbing Felicity’s hips and heaving her onto her desk. His lips devoured hers, and she kissed him back breathlessly at the suddenness of their position.

Felicity got an idea. She pulled his hips hard against her, hearing him moan. She ran her fingers into his hair and pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. He inhaled sharply, opening his eyes to meet her gaze before she released his lip.

He rubbed the spot where she’d bit him, his eyes sparking in desire. Oliver pulled back slightly, “I’m sorry about this morning,” he said quickly, kissing her cheek before dropping his lips to her neck to nip at her skin.

Felicity bit her lip, trying not to let her desire from this morning return. Because ever since he’d walked out of the house, all she’d been was angry…but with his tongue on her neck, he was making it hard to stay that way. She pushed at his chest until he backed up; and then she hopped off of her desk without a word, fixing her skirt as she made her way back to her broken computer.

Oliver hesitated, gaining his composure and wondering what the hell she thought she was doing before he followed after her. He turned her around, “I wasn’t done with you.” He murmured.

Felicity pursed her lips, “Oh, you know, Oliver, I wish I had time! But I really need to fix this bug on my computer,” she rolled her eyes, “Maybe later.”

Oliver stared at her, “This is punishment for this morning; for not realizing that you wanted to have sex…because I was too focused on getting a run in?”

She patted his cheek with her hand and smiled sweetly, “Yup.”

“Felicity,” he groaned, and she laughed because he sounded like a child. “I said I was sorry.”

She smirked, “You were right about us not spending enough time together lately. We’ve both been pretty distracted with work.”

He nodded, “So we need to make time for each other. Like right now.” He leaned in to kiss her, and she turned he head away; drawing another frustrated groan out of him.

“How about this; if you can stop working out so much, I’ll stop spending so much time with my computers.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “How am I supposed to shoot the bad guys if I’m not allowed to practice?”

She shrugged, “You’d be lost without me and my babies.” She said, tapping the monitor, "Work doesn’t count. This is strictly a pleasure thing. Anything outside of Arrow business…let’s see who can last longer. You without the salmon ladder or me without my computers.“

He quirked an eyebrow, “I think you’ll miss the salmon ladder more than I will.” Felicity rolled her eyes at him, and he lifted his chin in amusement, “And what will I get when I win?”

Felicity approached him slowly, running her hands up his arms and around his neck. She lifted onto her toes and ran her tongue over his ear, “ _If_ you win…what do you want?”

“Does sex count as working out in this bet?” He asked breathlessly.

Felicity giggled, “No. I don’t think I could handle no computers _and_ no sex.” Oliver smiled, holding his hand out for her to shake. Felicity placed her hand in his, and he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Good. If it did,” he said, dropping her hand to cup her face and press his lips to hers, “I’d be about to lose.”


	7. You Have Failed These Cookies

_[sailorchibimoonunicorn](http://sailorchibimoonunicorn.tumblr.com/):  The first and last time Felicity tried to cook for Oliver. _

* * *

“Oh… _Shit_!” Oliver heard her voice from the kitchen as soon as he opened the door to the apartment. Her curse was followed quickly by the sound of the smoke detector going off.

 "Felicity!“ He yelled, dropping his bag and running into the kitchen. He waved the smoke out of his face and saw Felicity leaning forward with her head in the oven. “What happened!?” He asked, pulling her away from the stove and airing it out with his hands. He noticed the cookies in the oven, one of them in flames. He removed his shirt and used it to put the fire out. After opening the window, he grabbed a chair and climbed onto it to turn off the alarm. Once the noise stopped, he looked down at her.

And she looked absolutely adorable; staring up at him with her oven-mitted hands on her head, wide, apologetic eyes, messy hair; flour on her cheek and forehead. She raised her arms in frustration, “I don’t know what I did wrong!“ She exclaimed.

Oliver chuckled, hopping off of the chair and taking her face between his hands. He brushed the flour on her forehead away with his thumb. She closed her eyes and sighed, "I shouldn’t even be allowed in the kitchen anymore. Put a ‘keep out’ sign on the door. Kick me out if I ever step foot in here again, because this is a disaster. I’m so sorry, Oliver.”

Oliver shook his head, “It’s okay, Felicity.” He released her face and pulled the oven mitts off of her hands, placing them on his own. He pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven and placed it onto the stovetop. “These look more like charcoal than cookies.” He smiled, tapping the knuckle of his middle finger against one of them and laughing.

When he turned around, Felicity’s eyes were watering; the cutest, saddest pout on her lips. “ _Oh_ ,” he said, surprised, dropping the oven mitts on the floor and touching her face again, “Oh, Felicity, I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it. I was just kidding. They look amazing, I’ll eat all of them.”

She shook her head, placing her hands on his bare chest, “No, don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault.” She croaked. “I just nearly burned our apartment down, it’s my fault.”

Oliver smoothed her hair, stepping closer and pulling her head to his chest. “My silly, adorable, girl. _It’s_ _okay_ ,” He whispered sweetly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Why are you crying?“

"Because you said the other day how much you missed your mother’s cookies! So I called Thea for the recipe so I could surprise you. And I screwed it up. I burned your mother’s cookies…and almost took our whole apartment with them.”

Oliver chuckled, kissing her hair a few more times, "Felicity,“ he said, hugging her tighter, "I love everything about you. Even the fact that you can’t cook…I find it incredibly charming.”

She sighed, pressing her lips to the center of his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck, “Do you really mean that?” She mumbled into his skin.

“I swear. _Everything_.” He laughed.

She picked her head up to look into his eyes, “Even my toes?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Oh, _definitely_ your toes, especially that cute little freckle on your pinkie one.” He answered, and Felicity gave him an odd look, unaware that he even knew about that freckle, “Every part of you from your head to your toes, in fact.” He said, glancing down her body.

Felicity cocked her head to the side, her heart reacting to the fact that Oliver Queen was so attentive to her that he’d noticed a freckle on her toe. “Go on,” she said, her eyes dropping to his mouth, curiosity and desire sparking inside of her.

He laughed breathily at the look on her face, “When you try to sing in the car, and you don’t know the words…but you just make up your own,” he smirked, “Extremely cute.” He finished, tightening his grip on her waist, “The look on your face when you accidentally say something sexual in front of the team…it makes me want to kiss you every time.” Felicity was smiling ear to ear, so he continued, “I _really_ love that you tried to make my mother’s cookies just because I said that I missed them.”

He kissed her nose, and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, “Thank you.” She whispered, already feeling better.

He dropped his lips to her ear and caught her earlobe between his teeth unexpectedly. Felicity’s nails dug into his shoulders, “I love it when you leave marks on me.” He growled, like he _knew_  that his teeth on her ear would make her grip him.

“ _Oh_ , _god_ ,” Felicity whispered, feeling heat rise through her body. She dragged herself closer.

“I love when you wear these jeans…” he continued in her ear, his hands roaming down her back, pushing her shirt up, ” _So_ sexy.“ He gripped her ass tightly and she moaned, her leg instinctively jolting to wrap around his waist. She turned her lips to his cheek and pressed them to his skin, letting out a shaky breath that sent an excited shiver down his spine.

” _Oliver_ …“ She breathed, her voice taking on a familiar tone, and he knew where this was heading. He smiled, brushing his lips over her hair.

“I love the way you look when you’re underneath me, Felicity.” He hesitated, closing his eyes and giving himself a moment to picture her; eyes closed, mouth open, hands gripping the sheets on either side of her, or clutching his hair. ” _And_ when you’re on top,“ He finished, picturing her nails dragging down his chest while she rode him. Felicity could hear the smirk on his face as he spoke. “I _love_ when you lose yourself in me, Felicity. The way you look at me, the noises that you make…and when you scream my name. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before…hearing you moan that you love me.”

Felicity grabbed his chin in her hand, pulling his face to hers and crushing her lips against his. Oliver lifted her slightly, using his grip on her ass to rub her center against his hardness before he set her feet back on the ground. She let out a breath against his lips, “Take me upstairs, Oliver…and make love to me." He kissed her harder, dragging her body against his like he couldn’t get close enough.  Oliver nodded adamantly, lifting her and wrapping her legs around him.

He carried her up the stairs, his lips never leaving hers. She gasped when he got to the landing at the top and stopped to push her back against the wall. He buried his face in her neck and used the support of the wall to hold her up so he could grind his hips into her open legs. "I love you.” she said quickly, ” _Oh my god_ , Oliver, I love you.“ She said, moaning the words breathlessly.

Oliver pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers, a smile on his lips and in his eyes. She met his gaze, her breath heavy as she remembered how he loved when she did that; moaned that she loved him. "Say it again,” he whispered.

Felicity ran her hands down his back, “I love you, Oliver Queen. _Everything_ about you.” She said, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, nothing by admiration in her eyes. He paused, trying to read her, to know if she meant it. Hearing Felicity repeat the same words that he'd  told her made his chest feel tight, and his whole body reacted in desire.

He’d believed for so long that he was broken, undeserving of happiness; that no one could love him whole-heartedly. Oliver was so sure that he was too damaged to ever be happy and at peace with someone that he loved. He had himself convinced that he could never have a healthy relationship; that no one would ever trust him completely, and he could never let them all the way in.

Felicity changed all of that. He could see it in her eyes that she meant what she said; as much as he loved every part of her, she loved every single part of him. Her eyes were trained on his like she was reading his mind, her fingers lightly tracing the scars on his shoulders, “ _Everything_.” She repeated softly, her brow furrowing, wondering why that seemed so hard for him to believe. He nodded slowly, pressing his lips to hers again. Oliver let the fiery desire he felt for her inside of him, the spark that he knew only she could ignite.


	8. Take Me Home

_anonymous asked: you're SUCH A GREAT writer, im so so in love with your fics... they keep me going thru this hiatus! and idk if you're taking prompts or not right now, but could there possibly be a fanfic that goes along with the song Take Me Home by Jess Glynne? ;) its a beautiful song, and i just always see it in oliver's pov.. i wonder what your take on it would be <3333_

* * *

Felicity’s eyes met Thea’s as soon as she entered Verdant. “Where is he?” She asked when she reached the bar.

Thea passed the drink she was holding to a woman waiting in a purple cocktail dress. “He’s upstairs. I didn’t want anyone seeing him like this.” Thea answered as subtly as she could over the loud music.

“Thea, why were you even serving him?”

Thea held her hands up. “He was here before I came in. And I think _they_ have more to do with how he got served.” She gestured to the woman in purple, and the six other women near her. “I warned Jessica not to serve my brother if he came in here. She must not have realized that these pathetic  _housewives_ were buying drinks for him hoping to get laid.” Thea smiled sweetly at the one in purple, who raised her eyebrow as she took a sip of her martini, looking away from Thea, who flashed her the bird.

Felicity put her hand over Thea’s, lowering the obscene gesture. “He’s been sober for a month. Why tonight?”

“I may have…accidentally…mentioned your…plans for tonight.”

Felicity closed her eyes and sighed, picking her clutch up from the bar top. “Accidentally, huh?”

Thea’s eyes narrowed, “Hey.” She said when Felicity turned away. “Don’t take it out on me just because you feel guilty that you broke his heart.”

“Thea, I didn’t mean to…”

“No.” Thea raised her finger to Felicity, her eyes on fire, “Just go help him. God knows you’re the only one he’ll listen to.”

Felicity nodded, “It sucked, by the way.” She wanted to give Thea a better apology than that, but decided to make that a fight for another day. Thea rolled her eyes and fought a smile, already suspecting that it must have sucked if she was willing to rush over to help her brother.

Felicity started up the stairs to the supply room. When she opened the door, the room was dark and she could see Oliver in the chair by the window, his head resting on his folded arms over the desk. “Oliver.”

He lifted his head, “Felicity?”

“Come on. Let’s go.” She reached Oliver and helped him to his feet, throwing her arm over her shoulders and wrapping her own around his waist. Oliver’s fingers immediately intertwined with hers, and Felicity led him out of the back door. Her car was in the alley, and she struggled to reach her keys in her jacket pocket with Oliver’s weight pressed to her.

“How was your date?” Oliver slurred, his voice full of disgust, his breath smelling like whiskey.

“Fine.” She mumbled, her fingers grasping the keys and pulling them out. She nudged Oliver, trying to adjust him so that she could open the passenger door.

“Sorry if I ruined it.“ He moved aside and let her open the door, getting into the car without another word. Felicity took the seatbelt and leaned over him, reaching for the buckle. With her head close to his face, she heard him inhale. Felicity buckled him in, slowly turning her head to look at him and knowing that it was a mistake before her eyes even met his. Through his drunken stupor, she could still see the fire in him that burned for her. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, and she’d be lying if she said that she’d be sorry if he did.

His gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, and Felicity inhaled sharply. “I’ll take you home.” She said quietly.

Oliver reached his hand up to put one finger to her jaw, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes bore into hers and her heart raced at the contact of his finger on her skin. "Nowhere to go. _You_ are my home.“ he said, his finger slipping down her neck. Felicity felt a shiver run through her body…that he was luckily too drunk to notice.

The drive to the loft was silent, and Felicity couldn’t stop glancing at him. At his face, his hands, his eyes. She knew that he could see her looking, but she hoped that he just thought she was concerned that he might puke in her car or something.

The truth was that she felt like she was relapsing as much as he had tonight. She’d struggled very hard to stop smelling the sweatshirt he’d left at her townhouse, to stop reading through their texts from when they were happy, to stop living through memories of nights with him.

But being in the car, smelling his familiar scent even through the stench of whiskey, hearing his steady breathing, seeing the arms and hands that had once held her so carefully, or _not_ so carefully. It was hard not to remember what it felt like to have his fingers gripping her bare skin, or how safe it felt to be wrapped in his arms on the harder nights without sleep. He was her home, too.

She pulled up to the loft and got out to help him. He had gotten out and was standing with his arm open for her when she rounded the car. Felicity stepped close to his side, helping him to the door the same way she’d helped him out of Verdant. This time Oliver leaned against her, pressing his lips and nose to the top of her head and inhaling. “I almost forgot how good you smell.”

“I’m sure you’ve had a lot of other womanly scents to fog the memory.” Felicity shot back.

She expected him to get defensive at that one, but he chuckled, “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you would know that you are it for me. There hasn’t been, and won’t ever be, anyone else.”

Felicity swallowed, “It was just a joke, Oliver.” She nudged him into the elevator and pushed the buttons.

“Oh,” he sighed, “well then you should get some better jokes. Yours kind of suck.” Felicity couldn’t help but chuckle, and Oliver was watching her as she covered her mouth. He smirked at her, “No, laugh all you want. I missed the sound of it.”

Felicity quieted, her eyes meeting Oliver’s. The elevator doors opened and a woman stepped in, making Felicity clear her throat and break eye contact. At the next floor, Felicity helped Oliver out of the elevator and into the loft.

She helped him into bed, taking his shoes off and getting ibuprofen and water from the bathroom. She set it next to him and leaned over. His eyes were closed, his mouth open slightly. Felicity ran her hand through his hair, kissing his temple. “I love you, Oliver Queen.” She whispered in the dark.

Felicity was almost out of the room when she heard him. “Felicity,” She turned around, wiping a tear away from her eye, “I love you too. You said that you needed space, and I gave it to you. You said that time would make this easier, but it hasn’t. We both know what we want, you’re just too afraid to take it again. And I understand why you were afraid, but I promised you that I would never hurt you, and I don’t know how else to prove that. I won’t chase after you anymore.” His voice was hazy, but she knew that he meant what he said. "You can come home to me whenever you’re ready.“


	9. Business Trips

_anonymous asked: Can you write a fic where Oliver goes away for a few days for whatever reason and Felicity is sad (but tries to hide it) so he comes home early and surprises her?_

* * *

Felicity sat cross-legged on the center of their bed while Oliver scrambled around her, clothes covering the bed and his suitcase beside her. Two whole weeks. After their summer getaway, they’d come back to Starling and started their lives together in the real world. They’d spent a few nights apart here and there; if Oliver stayed at the loft with Thea, or went to see Roy, or if Felicity went to Central City to help Barry. But this was their first time spending this long apart.

Felicity stared down at her hands as she thought about it; thought about how empty the apartment would feel without him. And Oliver watched her. He continued packing as he threw glances at her, seeming lost in her own head. “Hey,” he said softly, and her head snapped up to look at him. “You all right?”

She nodded and forced a smile. She knew that she’d be fine; they weren’t one of those couples who had to spend every second of every day together, and she didn’t want him to think she was being ridiculous by being sad over two weeks apart. “Yeah,” she answered, “Just tired.”

Oliver hesitated, not buying that, “I’m sorry I won’t be here to see your mom when she visits.”

Felicity snorted, rolling her eyes, “She’ll be sad about it, too. Not me though.” She said, stretching her arms out in front of her, "I’ll be fine if my mother never interacts with you ever again.“

Oliver chuckled, remembering the last time, when Donna Smoak had whispered in Felicity’s ear that his ass was one that a girl could really grab on to. She didn’t think he could hear her, and Felicity had shoved her with a groan and a sharp " _Mom!",_ only making him laugh more.

“Are you missing her?” He asked.

Felicity shrugged, “No. She’ll be here next weekend. You’ll probably just miss her, actually, if you’ll be home on Monday. That’s what you said right? Monday?”

Oliver’s brow furrowed, “Yes. Monday.”

Felicity pulled at the comforter, “Okay. Just making sure. I don’t know why I’m not going with you.” She sighed, “We’re co-owners of Queen Consolidated. If there’s a conference, shouldn’t we both be there?”

Oliver watched her, they both knew that firstly, he could handle this conference, and secondly, that she had way too much work to do in Starling to leave. “Is that what’s bothering you?” he asked.

Felicity glanced up, “What?”

Oliver smiled, “You’re gonna miss me.” He stated.

Felicity rolled her eyes, “It’s two weeks, Oliver. Half of a month. Wait, that sounds worse.” She bit at her nail, staring at the wall behind him, "It’s not going to be that bad. I’ll be fine.“

“I’ll miss you, too. A lot.” He pressed his fists against the bed and leaned forward to kiss her. “I was thinking…maybe, if I happen to video chat with you one night, and you happen to be wearing that lingerie that I like…” he trailed off, raising an eyebrow. Felicity giggled, and he kissed her again, “It’s _okay_ , Felicity. We haven’t gone this long without seeing each other since before we were a couple. I’m used to waking up with you in my arms, and it’ll be hard not to while I’m gone.” He shrugged, “It’s not a _big_ deal, but it’s a deal.”

She smirked, “Yeah, well so is that video chat idea…as long as you’re shirtless _as soon_ as you call.” She pointed her finger up at his face, and he pretended to bite it, making her giggle again.

“It’s a deal.” he repeated.

The first week dragged on unbelievably slow. Oliver had kept his promise about the video chat, but she was missing him again as soon as they hung up. She spent her days working at the company, and then she’d busy herself by training in the foundry with Diggle at night.

But she wasn’t looking forward to the weekend without Oliver. Thea was visiting Roy, Diggle had Sara all weekend and Lyla was away working with A.R.G.U.S. She’d called Barry and asked if they’d need her help with anything, but he insisted that she take a weekend to relax.

So she tried. On Friday night, she played music and had a one woman concert in the shower. Then on Saturday, she woke up early and went for a run, followed by lunch with Laurel, and then she finished some Arrow-related research. But by Saturday night, she was absolutely bored again.

She asked Laurel to go see a movie, but she said she was busy with Detective Lance, working on a case. Then she called Diggle, but Sara was already asleep. She sighed, dialing Oliver’s number. She knew she was antsy, this was the longest she’d been away from Oliver since they got together. And the longest she’d gone without sex since they got together. A week. She laughed to herself as the phone rang; they weren’t even able to go a week without sex. Less than that, actually.

She groaned when he didn’t pick up, throwing herself onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “Remember all of those weekends that you said no to going out with Laurel because Oliver was kissing your neck?” She muttered to herself, “Or those nights that you skipped training with Dig to hide in bed with Oliver? Or how about those missed dinners with Thea because you’d just lose track of time?” She sighed, “Karma is a bitch.”

She tried Oliver again later, but he still wasn’t answering. He usually picked up on the first ring, and she frowned down at her phone, trying not to get worried. She took a shower. And then she watched TV. And then she curled up in bed with a book, checking her phone every couple of minutes and not really focusing on the book at all.

                                                                                                     ...

Oliver shut the door slowly and quietly, dropping his suitcase by the door before making his way to the bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and took Felicity in. She laid on her stomach in the middle of the bed, asleep with her face resting on an open book and her glasses disheveled. He snorted, sitting down beside her and pushing her hair away from her face. He pulled her glasses off and set them on her nightstand. Then he turned the lights off and undressed to his boxers, crawling into the bed next to her.

She stirred when the bed dipped beneath him, turning towards him in her sleep. She sighed contentedly, sprawling her hand over his chest and tossing one leg over his body. She caressed him with her fingers as she cuddled her face into his arm. He laughed breathily, picking his arm up and wrapping it around her, pulling her to his side. She took a deep breath, “You’re home.” She muttered, still half asleep.

“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing her head and rubbing her shoulder. “I missed you.”

“Mmm,” she practically purred, her lips pressing to his chest. “I think I missed you more.” Her voice was soft and sleepy…and titillating.

“I’m the one who had to leave his conference a week early, let’s not play that game.” He chuckled, "It was already embarrassing enough to tell our colleagues that I had to go home because my puppy was sick.“

Felicity’s brow furrowed, “We don’t have a puppy.” She sighed.

Oliver smiled and glanced down at her, wondering if she was even awake. She was clearly a little disoriented. “We do now.” He replied.

Felicity’s eyes snapped open and she lifted her head to look at him. “You got us a puppy?” She asked louder than either of them had been speaking, her voice thick with sleep.

Oliver laughed, “No. I’m sorry.”

Felicity frowned, shoving him with the hand she had on his chest as he laughed at her. "Oliver, you’re mean.“

He was still chuckling to himself, “You're adorable.”

She smiled, “Did you really just come home because you missed me?” She asked, resting her head back down on his chest.

Oliver hugged her tight against him, “Yes.”

Felicity’s fingers brushed against his chest as light as feathers. And she traced one of his scars with her lips, drawing a sigh out of him. 

Her head snapped up quickly, meeting his gaze, “Oh no,” she groaned, her eyes wide, “This means you’ll be here when my mom comes.”

* * *

[mattyboardy](http://mattyboardy.tumblr.com/post/126613991829):

 

HOLY HELL YOU’RE AMAZING AND I LOVE THIS MORE MORE MORE

* * *

Oliver woke up to cold feet pressed against his legs. Turning over, he pulled her closer, warming her body with his. “Oliver,” she mumbled into his bare chest.

“Hm?”

“You’re home.” She breathed relief, warming him right back.

He sighed, so content on mornings like this that he never wanted to leave their bed.

“Oliver.” She said again.

He smiled, kissing her forehead. “What, baby?”

“Why have I been dreaming about us having a puppy all night?”

Oliver chuckled, his voice hoarse from a good night’s sleep. “Don’t you remember talking to me last night?”

“Vaguely.”

“I think the puppy comment woke you up.” He laughed.

Felicity nudged his leg with her cold foot. “That’s not funny.”

“It was pretty funny. But I’ll get you a puppy if you really want one.”

Felicity picked her head up to look at him, her eyes soft and her hair wild. His favorite way to wake up, favorite thing to see each morning. “Really?” She asked.

Oliver nodded slowly, “I’d give you anything.”

She groaned happily, her head falling to his chest. “Why are you so perfect?”

“I just want to make you happy.”

“Well…” Felicity started, kissing his shoulder gently, her hand running up his stomach. “You know what would make me _really_ happy?”

“I can think of a few ideas,” Oliver replied, pulling her hips easily so that she was lying on top of him, spread over his chest.

Felicity giggled, “I was going to say you could find other plans so you’re not here when my mom comes, and I don’t have to die of embarrassment if she hits on you…or talks about how attractive our children would be. But your ideas work too.”

“Oh no. Lunch with your mother is definitely happening today. After I’m through with you." 


	10. "Your Ass Dialed Me...Again!"

_befitandchase asked: "Your Ass Dialed Me… AGAIN!” Oliver and butt dialing Felicity or anyone else on accident and the person turning it into their personal ringtone for him._

* * *

“Oliver, can you call my phone, please? I can’t find it anywhere.” Felicity asked, turning over the couch cushions frantically.

Oliver put a hand on her shoulder, “Felicity, relax. It’s in here somewhere. You must’ve just…dropped it at some point.”

“Oh!” Felicity squealed, running past him and into the kitchen. She began searching the floor by the counter. “Frack. I thought maybe it fell out of my pocket when you…” She looked at the counter for a moment, letting a small shiver run down her spine at the remembrance of the pleasure she’d felt pressed against that counter top.

Oliver’s lip twitched, like he knew what she was remembering. “Hold on. I’ll call it.”

Felicity shook her head, turning her focus back to her phone. “That baby is as much of my baby as my computers are. I need it to-”

She was cut off by the sounds of Oliver’s voice…singing. It was coming from the living room, the pillows and blankets that they’d made a mess of a few hours ago. Oliver gave her a confused look, “Felicity, what is that?”

“Do you remember when you went to the bar with Digg and Barry last week?” Felicity asked, brushing past him to check under the blankets.

Oliver continued to listen to his horrible rendition of Paradise City. “Yeah…but why is this your ringtone? _How_ is this your ringtone?”

“Well, you changed the words from ‘the girls are pretty’ to ‘Felicity’s pretty’. So your phone started calling me.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, it was adorable at first.”

“I don’t really remember much of that night.” Oliver confessed, putting his hand on his neck.

Felicity raised an eyebrow at him, “I know. Which makes it a good thing Barry has an inhuman tolerance. He brought you and Digg home. Oh!” She yelled, pulling her phone from underneath the couch.

“I still don’t understand why you would make that your ringtone. I don’t even remember going up there to sing karaoke…”

“You didn’t. You were here when the singing started.”

“Oh…great.”

“Yup,” Felicity smiled, “You got right up on the counter and promised me a private performance.” She laughed, crossing the room to wrap her arms around him. She tilted her face up to his, kissing his lips when he looked down at her. “I love you.” She nudged her nose against his.

“I love you too. Wait…what do you mean it was adorable _at first_?”

“You kept putting my name into all of the songs you were singing…so your ass dialed me…again! And again.”

“Never let me out for a boys’ night again.”


	11. Ghost

_anonymous  asked: _ _What about Jackie and Wilson by Hozier? Or or or can't help falling in love with you by Elvis or or give up the ghost by rosi golan it's kind of a sad song tho. Other 2 r fluffy_

* * *

"Oliver.”

Oliver turned around to look at her, to see the woman he loved standing in front of him with her hands clutching her stomach. The world stopped. Every particle of his body knew. He knew as soon as he looked in her eyes. His vision got blurry as his eyes filled with tears and his entire world slowed down. It felt like an eternity was passing him by, but all he could focus on was the red liquid staining her ring, the sparkle of the diamond disappearing as blood covered it.

It couldn’t even have been a full minute, but he felt like he was stuck there, staring at her for hours. It wasn’t until she swayed that he moved in response. His eyes darted up to her face; her pale face, her fading eyes. He moved quickly enough to catch her, lowering her gently to the ground, easing her onto his lap.

She smiled like she knew.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said frantically, “I’m sorry that I yelled at you earlier. I’m sorry that I didn’t apologize sooner.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head weakly.

“I’m sorry that I lied to you.”

“Oliver.”

“I’m sorry for making you cry.” He knew now that he wasn’t only talking about today. He was apologizing for every lie, every argument, every tear that she shed for him.

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry that I waited so long to let you in. I knew how I felt about you the moment that I met you, Felicity. And I wasted too much time fighting it, pretending that I wasn’t falling in love with you every day that I knew you.”

“Oliver, don’t apologize for our story. It’s beautiful.” She reached her hand to touch his face, and he could feel his heart knot at how cold it was. He encompassed her hand with his own, trying to warm it. “You gave me the best life, Oliver. I don’t have one single regret…do you hear me?”

He nodded, tears falling over her hand on his face. “Come here.” she whispered. Oliver leaned over, skimming his nose to hers before he kissed her. “You were worth it. You are worth fighting for, Oliver Queen. You were _so_ worth it.” She smiled weakly.

“I love you more than anything, Felicity.”

She nodded, her smile fading. “More than… _anything_.”

Oliver felt her hand go limp. “Felicity?” He said, squeezing her hand, pressing it to his face. “Felicity.” He slowly untangled his fingers from hers, tucking her arms to her body before he stood, lifting her up and hugging her to his chest, Oliver carried Felicity home for the last time.


	12. A Few Arrows in Ray Palmer's Knees

_Anonymous: can u write Felicity finding out something, and hiding it from Oliver? Oliver suspects she's hiding something (she's not a very good actress) but he can't think of anything it might be and is scared it's something bad?_

* * *

Felicity stared out of the kitchen window as she thought about the conversation she’d had two nights prior. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, she’d only meant to check on him and make sure that he was going to be okay. It’d taken her by surprise. She hadn’t been expecting it. It wasn’t her fault. So why did she feel so guilty?

She jumped as arms wound around her waist, “What’s wrong?” Oliver whispered in her ear, leaning over her shoulder to turn the water off since she was too distracted to wash the dishes in front of her. “You can tell me,” he murmured in her ear when she stayed silent.

Felicity still didn’t answer as she dried her hands on a towel before twisting in his arms to face him. He had his hands on either side of the counter behind her, and she had to look straight up to see his face. “Nothing,” she forced a smile, “It’s nothing. I’m going to grab a shower, and then we can go see Thea, okay?”

He didn’t move his arms, just continued to look down at her with a slight shake of his head, “Please tell me.” He said quietly, his voice desperate. "If I’ve done something…I need the chance to fix it. I feel like you’ve been pulling away from me for days, and I can’t lose you when I don’t even know what it’d be for.“

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and after a moment’s hesitation, he hugged her back. “You are _not_ losing me. Why would you even think that?" She asked with a slight laugh.

"Something changed. And you won’t talk to me about it.” He said, his hands running over her back.

Felicity sighed, keeping her head hidden between his neck and shoulder. “I went to check on Ray the other night…” she trailed off. She felt his arms and chest stiffen. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay. But…“

Oliver was holding his breath, waiting for her to say it. "What happened?” He asked, and his voice was soft and sad, truly asking. And she knew where his mind had gone. There was no anger or accusation behind his words. It was the only explanation he could think of for the way she’d been acting.

Felicity shook her head, her nose grazing the skin of his throat, “No! No. It’s not what you’re thinking. He just…he started talking about how almost dying made him realize that he wanted to fight for me. He said that he loves me and wants to be with me. Then I told him that _we_ were together now; that I’m in love with _you_. But…he got a little upset.”

Oliver gently pushed her hips, moving her far enough away from his body so that he could see her face.  His eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at her, running his fingers over her hair, “What did he say that has you so upset?”

Felicity pursed her lips, “It wasn’t really _talking_ …I mean, he didn’t _say_ anything. Besides all the other stuff that made me extremely uncomfortable.”

Oliver’s eyes darkened, “Did he hurt you?”

“Um, no. He kissed me. After babbling about how I was in love with you, I tried to leave and he grabbed my arm…the next thing I knew he was kissing me.” Felicity took a deep breath before quickly finishing, "I pushed him away and he apologized. And then I left.“

Oliver’s eyes were harsh, "Felicity, I’ll be right back.” he said simply.

She held onto his biceps, “What? That’s all you’re going to say…no yelling? Where are you going to go?”

“To put a few arrows in Ray Palmer’s knees.”

Felicity cocked her head to the side and ran her hands up his arms, “No, you’re not. He was just…I don’t know what he was, but he apologized. I’ve only been weird lately because I felt so guilty about it.”

Oliver shook his head, his eyes still brooding, “You have nothing to be sorry about, Felicity. But Palmer does.” He pulled himself away from her, taking his coat from a chair.

“Oliver! Are you kidding me? You’re not seriously going to go hurt him, are you?”

“Would that _bother_ you?” Oliver asked, his jaw tight and his hand on the doorknob.

Felicity raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, the look in her eye warning him, “Don’t twist it like that.” She said, shaking her head at him.

“Fine, I won’t hurt him. I’ll just have a little chat with him.” He opened the door, “And offer him a plane ticket out of Starling.” He finished, throwing his jacket over his shoulder as he walked out of the door.

Felicity sighed, “Can you pick up a bottle of wine on your way home!?” She called after him as the door slammed behind him. “Because I am going to need it.” She mumbled to herself.


	13. A Romantic Night In

[sailorchibimoonunicorn](http://sailorchibimoonunicorn.tumblr.com/): Olicity: Oliver surprises Felicity with a romantic night in :D

* * *

Felicity got out of the car and groaned, her legs screaming in protest. She leaned down and pulled her heels off before going inside.

It was just one of those days. One of those days that made her question why she was trying to be the CEO of a company when she had no idea what the hell she was doing. One of those days where everything seemed to go wrong. A day that she woke up with a headache, but without Oliver. One of those days that she just felt like she’d let everyone down.

She hadn’t seen Oliver since the night before, and she knew that he was having dinner with Thea at the loft, followed by a training session, and wouldn’t be home until late. So it was a get into her pajamas immediately, cereal for dinner, maybe have a good cry, and then pass out before 9 o'clock kind of evening.

She heaved the door open, freezing with her purple heels in her hand. The lights were off, but the town house was illuminated with candles, and Oliver was smiling at her from the couch, turned to face her with one arm draped over the back. She glanced around, noting the bottle of wine on the coffee table. “Hi, baby.” Oliver murmured.

Felicity’s eyes were wide, and she could feel them filling with tears. “I thought you were with Thea tonight.“ She choked out.

Oliver stood up and crossed the room to reach her. He placed his hands on either side of his face, pursing his lips at the sight of her tears. "She cancelled on me. Roy came to surprise her.” He stroked her cheeks, “Are you okay?”

Felicity blew out a deep breath, rolling her eyes and looking away, “It was just a long day.” She answered, her voice strained. Oliver leaned down and took her shoes, dropping them on the floor, and then he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. She smiled slightly, “What’s all of this for?”

Oliver pressed his lips to the palm of her hand before answering, “Diggle might have called me; said that you had a rough day.”

She laughed, feeling the tears falling now, “I was so mean to him, Oliver. _Everything_ just kept going so wrong! I snapped at him. And he was just trying to help.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes shining with tears. “Does he hate me now?” She asked, her voice breaking.

Oliver chuckled slightly at her sad, beautiful, puppy dog eyes, her lip quivering, "Dig could never hate you, Felicity. He isn’t really one to hold a grudge.“ Oliver murmured, touching her hair and pressing his lips to her forehead. "He loves you. He only called me because he was worried about you.”

“Okay,” she sighed, still crying as she wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly. “I’m really glad you’re home. I thought I wouldn’t get to see you today.”

He hugged her back, his lips in her hair as she pressed her face to his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “I picked you up some sushi from that place you like.”

She laughed into his chest, “You hate sushi.”

“Yeah. I picked up Belly Burger for me.” He laughed too.

“And wine?” She asked, her voice adorably quiet and innocent.

Oliver laughed through a sigh, “Yes, and wine.”

She wiped at the tears, her face still hidden in his chest, “I love you.” She muttered, her voice muffled in his shirt.

Oliver ran his fingers over her back, sending shivers down her spine,  "I love _you_.“ He responded, pulling away to look into her eyes, "Do you remember when I told you that you could always tell me about your day?” He smiled slightly, and she returned it, “That offer still stands. It always will.”

After changing into her favorite t-shirt of his and eating the sushi he’d brought home, Felicity knelt down in front of her collection of movies. He was letting her pick, and even though she felt the impulse to immediately choose _The Notebook_ again, she suppressed it, deciding not to torture him tonight when he’d done so much for her. So she compromised with  _50 First Dates_ , one that Oliver had seen for the first time with her. They’d both laughed through the whole thing; him at Adam Sandler and her at his laughter. He smiled when she waved it, “Okay,” he said.

Felicity put it in and settled into the couch, her feet in his lap. As the movie started, Oliver lifted the blanket from her legs and began massaging her feet. Felicity turned her head to look at him. “What?” He asked, “Are you one of those people who hates having their feet touched?”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Just wondering how you're so perfect." Her eyes widened and she stared at him, at his knowing smirk. "That was out loud.” She muttered, making him genuinely laugh. His smile was so real; like sitting on the couch and watching _50 First Dates_ as he rubbed her feet was exactly where he wanted to be.

He glanced down at her feet, his thumbs pressing into the soles before he looked up at her, the smile still present, “Your toes look like fingers.”

Felicity’s mouth fell open, and she pulled her feet away, “They do _not_!”

Oliver chuckled, leaning forward to pour two glasses of wine, “It’s not a bad thing! I think you have cute toes.”

She pouted, taking a sip from her glass, “That’s not cute. Finger toes aren’t cute.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, "I’m sorry.“ he said insincerely, "I take it back.”

Felicity glared at him over her wine glass, putting her feet back in his lap, “You can’t take something like that back. You said it, and now it’s out there forever.”

He shook his head the way he always did, a smile playing across his lips at her humor. He placed his hand over her leg and squeezed, “We all have flaws, Felicity. You love me despite my inability to share my emotions, and I love you…regardless of your weird toes.” He shrugged.

Felicity hit his arm, her head falling back in laughter. When she was done laughing, she moved, curling her feet underneath her and placing her wine on the table. She leaned over him, kissing his lips, “You’re improving on yours. I can’t fix mine.”

“Well it’s a good thing I love you an awful lot, then.” He said simply. Felicity shook her head; it always put her in a better mood when he joked like that. It was a side of him that she’d never really seen before. She smiled against his lips before pressing a kiss to his cheek and falling into his lap, resting her head on his leg and sighing.

Oliver started by stroking her hair, chuckling at the movie as her eyes got heavy. She was really fighting her fatigue when his hand moved from her hair to run down her arm. He massaged her shoulder, and then her back; his hands pushing her shirt up to touch the skin of her hip.

Felicity let out a sound of pure contentedness.

She finally fell asleep somewhere in the middle of the movie though, and she woke up to a blue screen. She turned her head to look up at Oliver. His head rested on the back of the couch, his eyes closed and his mouth open. She carefully removed his hand from her waist and sat up, stretching her arms above her head before pulling her shirt back into place. “Oliver,” she whispered, but he didn’t wake up.

He was a light sleeper. She often felt guilty because she was a restless during the night, and he would wake up every time that she moved. “Oliver,” she said again, a little bit louder, but he didn’t stir. She cocked her head to the side, she’d never seen him out cold like that.

Felicity climbed over him, situating herself on his lap and raising her eyebrows when he still didn’t wake up. So she leaned forward and started kissing his neck.

Oliver woke up with a deep breath, picking his head up and his hands immediately grabbing her waist. She smiled into his neck, “Geez, I thought you were dead.”

He laughed, his voice groggy, “Well this is a great way to be woken up.” She responded to that by nipping at his neck and he sighed, “What time is it?”

“Almost 2:00 in the morning.” she murmured into his skin.

“And…you want to…I mean, you’re not tired? Do you want to go to bed?”

Her lips moved to his jaw, “Do I want to _go_ to bed…or do I want you to _take_ me to bed?” She kissed the spot just beside his jaw, below his ear…his favorite place, “Because there’s a difference.”

His eyes closed and he wrapped his arms around her, standing up from the couch, “Take you to bed it is,” he mumbled, his lips meeting hers. 

 


	14. Mood Swings

_Anonymous: Can you write a fic where Felicity is getting upset over really stupid things and is crying a lot and Oliver is trying to figure out how to tell her that he thinks she's pregnant? _

* * *

Felicity woke up, the light creeping in from the window and creating a beautiful glow. Oliver’s nose was pressed against the back of her neck and his arm was wound tightly around her, his hand covering hers against her chest. She smiled slightly, letting herself feel a moment of complete perfection.

And then, all of a sudden, her head began to pound, like she could feel her brain beating against her skull. She groaned. The light now hurt her eyes, Oliver’s arm felt restricting, and his breath on her neck made her feel like she was having a hot flash.

She pushed his arm away and he jostled awake, inhaling deeply and searching for her as soon as his eyes opened. He watched as she stood up and ran her fingers into her hair, holding her head. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

It annoyed her. “No,” she snapped, “I’m not okay.” She made her way to the bathroom and slammed the door. She took two aspirin, and then a quick shower. Her head still hurt, but the cold water helped her to calm down. She didn’t bother with a towel, just pulled on her bra and underwear. 

When she came back out, Oliver was dressed and sitting on the bed. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I just had a headache.”

He shook his head, his eyes reflexively glancing down her body. "It’s all right.“

She cocked her head to the side, “Seriously? You’re checking me out right now?”

Oliver’s gaze wandered back up to her eyes, “Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, when I’m trying to apologize to you, maybe you could try looking up here.”

He purposely kept his gaze focused on her eyes, “Okay.”

“‘Okay?’ ‘It’s all right’? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Oliver pursed his lips, “Felicity, is it…I mean, are you on your…”

Felicity made her way to her closet and pulled out a dress, sighing, “Soon.” She threw him a look over her shoulder, “Sorry.” she muttered, embarrassed.

He shook his head, “You never have to apologize to me.”

She pulled on the dress and went to stand between his legs. She ran her hands back and forth over his shoulders as he looked up at her, “I love you.” She said, leaning forward to kiss him. Oliver kissed her back, his mind distracted. He knew when her periods were; if only because he dreaded those weeks without being able to have sex with her. And she was more than a few days late.

Felicity pulled away to sit on his lap. She kissed his cheek, “Maybe we could go to the beach today? I mean, we don’t have anything to do until you and Dig’s plan for that larcenist tonight, right?”

Oliver watched her eyes, hesitating because he could already see how she’d react. She knew about his plans, but she had clearly forgotten. “I have to meet Laurel, remember? We talked about it? I’m helping her train today. And then this afternoon we were going to go see Sara…”

Felicity’s hands fell from his shoulders and she stood up, “Right. Laurel. Sara. Why not check in on Helena while you're at it? Maybe see how McKenna's doing?”

“Felicity…” Oliver trailed off, knowing what he wanted to say; but being far too afraid to say it. She might actually stab him with one of her high heels if he told her that he thinks she could be pregnant.

It was more than just this morning. The thought had crossed his mind last week, when he’d thought she was on her period and she’d climbed him like a tree as soon as he got home. She’d been… _passionate_ ever since then; which she usually was, but it was on overdrive lately. And she’d made a couple of comments about feeling abnormally tired, about her breasts feeling swollen; both of which they’d blamed on her sex drive. But now…

“No,” she shook her head, “It’s fine. You go see Laurel. And Sara. I’ll just find something else to do.” She said, her voice tense as she turned away from him and focused on putting her earrings in.

Oliver stood up too, “I’ll cancel if that’s what you want me to do.” Felicity wasn’t usually jealous. He’d already told her about training with Laurel. And about spending time with Sara. She’d thought they were both good ideas…

“No. You know what I want you to do?”

He raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“Write me a list of the women you’ve been with. All of them.”

Oliver stared at her blankly, “You want a list of every woman I’ve ever slept with? ”

She put her hands on her hips, “Yes, Oliver. That’s what I want.”

“Felicity…I don’t think that’s what you want.”

“Well, I said it is. So you know...it is, Oliver!”

Oliver crossed the room to take her face between his hands, “Felicity…I think there’s something else going on with you.” He stroked her cheeks, doing his best to keep her calm, “You’re late.” He said, raising his eyebrows.

“Girls are late sometimes, Oliver.” She said sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she hooked her hands to his forearms, clutching him. She already knew where he was going with this.

“Felicity, with everything else that’s been going on…I just think that we should at least…pick up a pregnancy test.” Felicity’s tears ran down her face and he quickly wiped them away, “Hey, hey,” he murmured soothingly, “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not. What if I  _am_ pregnant? I’m not ready for that. Oliver, you’re not ready to be a father!”

Oliver pulled back to look her in the eyes, “Felicity Smoak,” he said seriously, making sure he had her attention. “I am ready for anything that life throws at _us_. As long as it’s me and you together, then I’m not even worried.”

She blew out a deep breath, her eyes still shining with tears, “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” he laughed slightly, pulling her back against him and resting her face to his chest, “Of course I do, my beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Oliver,” she said into his chest, sniffling, “Please don’t make me that list.”

He chuckled, “Okay.”


	15. Jealous History

_Anonymous: Jealous Oliver please. PLEEEEEEAAASE IM DYING HERE!!!!!!! There aren't enough fics lately. _

* * *

Oliver rushed to change out of his Arrow suit and into a real suit. “You’re late,” Diggle sang as he watched Oliver run down the stairs. Oliver glared at him, tossing his bow on the table. Diggle was already dressed, “She’s gonna be pissed at you.”

Oliver sighed as he changed as fast as he could, “I know.”

Diggle just smirked, knowing that Felicity was probably having a nervous meltdown at the banquet without either of them there. The night was about her; a party to celebrate her new position in the company. But there was a new strand of Vertigo surfacing, and Oliver _had_ to follow the lead. Even though he hadn’t gotten any answers.

“She’s probably hiding in the corner of the room with a bottle of champagne.” Diggle continued in the car.

Oliver laughed, “You know, she’ll be just as mad at you.”

Diggle shrugged, “Maybe. I’m not the one who she’ll take it out on, though.” Oliver sighed, praying that she wouldn’t torture him like she did when he’d missed one of their dates to chase down bank robbers. For that, she’d worn lingerie to bed for three nights straight. She opted out of her usual apparel of his t-shirts for three separate, very sexy numbers that he’d never seen before.

The first night she’d curled up next to him and ran her fingers all over his body. The second night she’d moved her hips against his relentlessly when he went to spoon her. And the third night she’d attacked his mouth, building him up just high enough before she pulled away, turned away from him and switched her lamp off.

He smirked to himself, remembering how he’d gotten her to crack by ‘forgetting’ his towel when he came out of the shower the next morning. He more than made up for the lost time.

He searched around the room for her as soon as he came in. He’d already seen the dress she planned to wear hanging in the closet, but he hadn’t seen it on her yet. It was red and strapless, with a deep cutout down the center that he’d been excitedly waiting to see ever since she bought it.

He recognized her from behind, her hair was in a loose, intricate bun that left the tan skin of her back wide open. The dress looked even better on her than he’d thought it would, her ass and her legs accentuated by the gold high heels that she paired it with. Diggle tapped him on the arm and pointed, confusing Oliver since he was already staring at her. But then he noticed the man that she was talking to. The man who was making her laugh as she leaned forward to grip his arm, her mouth open  and her eyes closed in a beautiful laugh that he could hear in his head. He’d caused it before.

He cocked his head to the side, wondering who this man was. Felicity seemed comfortable with him, but Oliver didn’t recognize him from the company. As he made his way over to her, the man held out both of his hands to Felicity, and she took them with a smile, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

Oliver stopped in his tracks, turning around and raising an eyebrow at Diggle, who lifted his shoulders and shook his head in response. Oliver watched for another moment while the man wrapped his arm around Felicity’s waist, his hand low on her back. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and he held her other one in his, placed over his chest. They swayed closely; so closely that he could easily lean forward and whispered in her ear. And Felicity laughed again, this time letting her forehead rest on his shoulder as he chuckled over her head.

Oliver turned around to look at Dig again, who gave him an irritated look and pointed, telling him to go.

Oliver shook his head to clear it, striding his way towards them. He immediately touched Felicity’s arm, but glared at the man dancing with his girlfriend. “Hi, handsome.” Felicity beamed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him, but her voice still noted with laughter from her new friend.

“Hi,” Oliver answered tightly, putting his hands behind his back and looking at the stranger. “Oliver Queen.” He nodded and offered his hand.

The man took it and shook it strongly, “Curtis Holt. I went to MIT with Felicity.” He answered before placing his hand back on Felicity’s waist.

Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Oh,” he said, noting the gesture, "I didn’t know one of Felicity’s old friends was coming tonight.“ He glanced down at their still connected hands. They weren’t dancing anymore, but it didn’t occur to either of them to let go of each other. Oliver’s jaw tightened.

“She didn’t either,” Curtis grinned, “I’d just been hired by Palmer Tech before the accident. I was shocked when I heard that Felicity Smoak was rising from the ashes as the new CEO and throwing it back to Queen Consolidated. So badass.” He spoke of her like a proud boyfriend, and Oliver stiffened.

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Holt was pretty much my knight in shining armor after the Cooper drama. He really pulled me out of a rough time.” She looked up at Curtis with love and appreciation, “He saved me.”

“I saw her sitting in the cafeteria at 6:00 AM crying over a bowl of oatmeal. I couldn’t just walk away from that.“ He laughed, “We moved in together, what? Two months later?”

Oliver shuffled his feet, growing more and more on edge the more they reminisced and the longer they stayed in each other’s arms.

Felicity laughed, nodding her head, “Yeah, I think that’s right.”

“Well,” Oliver smiled tightly, “Sounds like you two have quite the history.”

Felicity’s brow furrowed as she noticed the tension in his voice. “Oliver…” she said, wondering if he was jealous. She didn’t know what to say, so she just shook her head at him.

He glanced down at her, his eyes looking at her like she’d betrayed him in some way. He gestured at their position, “You two carry on. I’m just going to get a drink with Dig.” He turned and walked away from her without another word.

Felicity held up her finger to Curtis and caught up to him just as he reached the bar. She ran her hand down his spine, “Oliver Queen. Please tell me that you’re not _jealous_.”

He looked down at her, his eyes still guarded, “You seem very fond of him.”

“ _Oliver_.” She said, her voice stern, “You do realize that every day, I see the girl that you once called the love of your life? The girl you stared at a picture of and pined after for five years, wishing you could get home to?”

Oliver shook his head, “This isn’t about Laurel.”

“No,” she said, crossing her arms, “This is about you being rude to an old friend of mine because of petty jealousy.” She raised her eyebrows, “See where I’m going with this?”

“Well, clearly you’re better at dealing with exes than I am.” He muttered, taking a sip of his scotch.

Felicity laughed lightly, wrapping her hands around his arm and resting her chin on his shoulder, “Oliver, he’s gay.” She said in his ear.

Oliver looked down at her in surprise, “What?”

“Curtis Holt is gay. We were never together.”

Oliver huffed, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed, “Why didn’t you just say that before?”

“Because you were being a big jackass!” She said, laughing at him, “How did you not pick up on the fact that he’s gay?”

He laughed too, “I would blame the five years on the island, but I’ve never really been good at that.” He frowned, “It kind of got Tommy and I into some trouble at some gay bars.”

Felicity chuckled, pressing her lips to his shoulder, “What am I going to do with you, Oliver Queen?” She sighed.


	16. Christmas Presents

_Anonymous: can you write a fic where Felicity and Thea become close and Roy and Oliver wonder if they should be worried (in a joking way?) I hope this made sense lol_

* * *

Oliver walked down the street beside Roy, glancing down at the object in his hands and then up to his friend. “You really think she’ll like it?” He asked, his breath circling in the cold air.

Roy rolled his eyes, “Of course she will. Maybe you could just wait until after Thea and I leave to give it to her.”

Oliver chuckled, “Why? You think she’ll like it so much that she’ll want sex right there?”

Roy threw him a look, “No, but apparently that’s what you’re hoping for. I just…the present I got Thea is…a little less romantic than that.” He gestured at Oliver’s hand.

Oliver shrugged, “Roy, you know Thea better than anyone. Whatever you got her…she’ll love it.”

“Yeah…” he sighed, “I think she will…you, on the other hand, won’t be too crazy about it.”

Oliver put his hand on Roy’s arm to stop him, “Why wouldn’t I like it? Please tell me you didn’t buy my sister lingerie for Christmas.”

Roy laughed, “God, Oliver, where is your head tonight?”

Oliver shifted his feet, “Well, then what is it?”

“A Chinese Dao.”

Oliver pursed his lips, “You got my sister a _sword_ for Christmas?”

“I told you it wasn’t romantic! I’ve been training with this Sensei in China,” Roy shrugged, "I figured since I’m pretty much going to be hiding out while I’m here anyway, I could use the time to teach Thea how to use one.“

Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed, “All right. And you know, Roy, I think you being here is romance enough for Thea.”

* * *

Thea sighed as she hung ornaments on the tree in the loft, “Why did we have to get such a big tree?” She groaned.

Felicity glanced at her from her spot in the kitchen, “I believe it was because you whined and said, ‘but _Ollie_ , I want the _whole_ loft to smell like a Christmas tree!’” Felicity imitated Thea. "And then you made us carry it to the car while you drank hot chocolate.“

Thea laughed, "Felicity! Where’s your Christmas spirit? Aren’t people supposed to be nice to each other during the holidays?”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Come help me finish up these cookies before Oliver gets back.”

Thea walked over and looked down at Felicity’s sugar cookies, “Hey, those don’t look bad at all! Wow, Felicity!”

Felicity glared at her, “That shocked tone in your voice right there…is why I’m not nice to you.” Felicity teased, dotting Thea’s nose with frosting.

Thea’s mouth dropped in feigned surprise, “Don’t pick fights you can’t win, Smoak.” She said, picking up the icing dispenser. She smirked, “Cute outfit.”

Felicity stepped back from the counter, “ _Thea_ ,” she warned, raising her hand, “Don’t even think about it!” Thea squeezed the dispenser and frosting covered Felicity’s hands. “Oh my god!” She squealed, taking Thea’s face between her hands, smashing the frosting over Thea’s cheeks and sliding her hands over her friend’s skin and hair. “Cute face.” She said in the same teasing tone that Thea had used.

Thea smiled, silently moving the dispenser to Felicity’s cleavage. She jammed the dispenser into Felicity’s shirt and squeezed it, laughing while Felicity screamed.

And that scream was what Oliver and Roy heard from outside the building. “Felicity!?” Oliver yelled, running as fast as he could into the apartment complex and up the stairs. Roy was right at his heels. The two boys crashed through the door and into the room, Oliver’s eyes wild as he searched the loft for Felicity.

Their entrance went completely unnoticed by the girls, who were running around the Christmas tree. Thea chased Felicity with a frosting dispenser while Felicity squealed and jumped over the presents in her attempt to evade Thea's frosting attack.

Felicity lost her breath from running while she laughed so hard, collapsing onto the floor and sighing, she looked up at the twinkling lights. Then Thea straddled her, holding the dispenser over her head, and Felicity just laughed more, protecting her face with her hands. “ _Thea_ , no!”

Roy raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know if I’m turned on or worried.”

Thea’s head snapped up and Felicity squirmed beneath her to look at the door.

Oliver threw him a look, “That’s my _sister_.” He said, his nose crinkling.

Roy laughed, “Yeah, this probably isn’t nearly as hot for you as it is for me.”

Oliver pursed his lips, “That’s also my _fiancée_ that you’re talking about.” He said sharply.

“Is that Roy!?” Felicity asked, unable to see the door from her position under Thea. Thea just stared at him, open mouthed, still straddling Felicity, with icing on her face and the dispenser in her hands.

Roy smiled, his eyes not leaving Thea’s.

Felicity squirmed more, but Thea had her pinned, “Roy!?" But Roy was too busy staring at Thea to answer and Thea was too focused on the fact that Roy was there to move... " _Oliver_?"

"Yes, baby,” Oliver chuckled, “Roy’s here.” With the confirmation, Felicity turned her gaze to Thea, smiling widely up at her. She nudged Thea, who finally stood up and dropped the dispenser before running across the room and crashing into Roy.

He laughed as his arms wound around Thea, “You smell like Christmas,” he sighed, breathing her in, "and home.“ he finished, whispering just outside her ear.

* * *

Oliver sat on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, his arm around Felicity and her head on his lap. Her legs were tucked under her as she laid curled up in a fleece blanket. The loft was illuminated by the fire in front of them and the light of the tree. Thea and Roy had retreated to Thea’s room a couple of hours before, Felicity smiling knowingly and winking at Oliver. He returned it by shaking his head and looking disgusted; thankful that the walls were thick.

He twirled the box between his fingers in one hand while he ran his fingers through her hair with his other, watching the snow falling outside of the giant windows. Felicity sighed contentedly, "You know those moments,” she said, her voice soft, “that when you think back…when you think about how perfect it was to be there, you wish you’d known, at the time, how much it would mean to you later?”

Oliver stroked her hair, “Sure,” he said.

“This isn’t one of those.” She sighed, turning over to look up at him. He quickly dropped the box beneath the couch pillow to hide it. “This is one of those, ‘I know that this is perfect’ moments, and I’m just really wishing that it wouldn’t end.”

Oliver smiled down at her, so much love for her that sometimes it felt overwhelming, “By asking you to marry me, Felicity…I’m promising you that our life together is just going to be one long moment, just like that.”

She reached up to touch his face, “I can’t wait,” she smiled brightly.

Oliver leaned over to kiss her, brushing his lips lightly against hers, “I have something for you." He mumbled, pulling the box from underneath the cushion. Felicity laughed against his lips, her whole body letting in the happiness that he could bring her. "What could you possibly give me that would make me any happier than I am right now?”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, and Felicity squeezed her eyes shut, “I didn’t mean _that_.” Then her eyes opened and she looked up at him innocently, “Wait. Yes I did. Let’s go do that.”

He laughed, holding out the box, “Normally I wouldn’t hesitate. But I’ve had this in my pocket all night, and I’d really like for you to open it… _first_. Then I’m taking you upstairs.”

Felicity giggled and waved her left hand in front of her face, “Oliver, you know you already got a ring on my finger, right?”

He smiled, shaking his head at her, “Just open it, Felicity.” He said lovingly.

Felicity sighed, sitting up and holding out her hands. Oliver dropped the box into her open palms. She slid her thumb across the velvet top before pushing it open.

She stared down at a necklace; two charms hanging from the end of it. She touched the arrow charm first, tinted in green. And then she touched the silver heart charm. “Did you make these?” She asked, glancing up at him.

Oliver nodded slowly, “Because I’m The Green Arrow,” he said, his voice emotional and deep; “And you have my heart.”


	17. Babysitting Sara

_[sailorchibimoonunicorn](http://sailorchibimoonunicorn.tumblr.com/):  Olicity babysits Sara I know you have a lot of requests already so don't feel any pressure i adore you so I can vamp up the Patience lol. _

* * *

Felicity took a deep, calming breath before knocking. She only tapped on the door once before it swung open and Lyla sighed in relief, immediately handing her a diaper bag and turning away to rush around the living room. Felicity stepped inside and shut the door, glancing down at Sara who sat on the floor surrounded by toys. "Hi baby girl,“ Felicity knelt down, “Are you ready to spend a whole day with your Aunt Felicity!?”

Sara squealed, reaching up to her. Felicity laughed and picked her up, spinning around to watch Lyla. “There it is!” Lyla yelled, pulling her heel out from under the couch and slipping it on her foot. “Felicity, I’m so sorry to just drop this on you. John’s out recruiting for the team and Waller demanded my assistance.” She said, rolling her eyes on the word _demanded_.

“What’s going on?” Felicity asked, pressing her cheek against Sara’s. “I thought you two were done with A.R.G.U.S. and the Suicide Squad.”

Lyla groaned, “Please don’t call it that. It just reminds me of that night with Deadshot.” She shuttered, “Anyway, we quit _the_ _field_. But Waller put us in charge of the team; which means recruiting, meetings, and training.” She sighed, “I have to admit though; I like it. I get to be the same soldier that I’ve always been. Now we just don’t have to worry about Sara losing her parents.”

Felicity nodded, “She’s lucky to have both of you.” Felicity pursed her lips, “Can I just ask, does John know…about today?”

Lyla shook her head, “No. He’s unreachable at the moment. But I trust you, Felicity, _and I trust Oliver_.”

Felicity smiled, “She’s in good hands.”

Lyla smiled back, “Thank you for doing this. All right, she’s got diapers, extra clothes, first-aid supplies, and her blanket in the bag.” Lyla lifted another, bigger tote bag, “And here are her toys. I just packed her favorites. She should be fine. I don’t know exactly how long this will take, but I’ll probably be by the loft late tonight to pick her up? I put some pajamas in the diaper bag if she crashes, which I’m sure she will; that kid can fall asleep anywhere.”

After taking Sara’s car seat from Lyla’s car and putting it in Felicity’s, Lyla strapped her in and kissed her daughter, “I love you, sweet girl. Mommy will see you later.”

“Mama!” Sara called, waving her arms excitedly.

As Felicity drove away, she clutched her knuckles over the steering wheel and sighed, “Okay,” she said to herself, “This is going to be fine. John will understand, right?”

Sara began babbling in the backseat, and Felicity glanced at her through the mirror, nodding and agreeing with her as she spoke incoherently.

She waited until Sara was finished before continuing, “Oliver, though…don’t get me wrong, baby, he’s going to be so happy to see you. But he’ll be worried about Dig and-”

Sara cut her off, babbling loudly in her own language and Felicity couldn’t help but smile. None of the things she said were words, but it was like Sara understood her and was telling her that it’d be fine, don’t worry about it too much, those things will work themselves out.

Since it was such a beautiful day, Felicity took Sara to the park. She was less than a year old, so every slide and swing that she ran towards, she needed Felicity’s help. But she loved it. Felicity held her hand down every slide and pushed her on the swings until Sara seemed ready to leave.

After the park came ice cream, and then a walk with Sara in the stroller. Sara was so easy all day long, only having one mini meltdown when she finished all of her ice cream and held her cup up to her with a sweet little, “ _Moe_?” And Felicity said no. She knew that she was probably already going to be in trouble for feeding her ice cream, and she wasn’t about to make it worse. That upset Sara, but she forgot about it quickly and was back to being the happiest kid on earth.

The happiest kid on earth really knew how to eat. Felicity had her back at the loft by 3:00, and she snacked on everything she could find before Felicity finally decided it was time to give her dinner. She ordered food though, not willing to subject Sara to her cooking. After Sara finished all of her food, Felicity gave her a bath, washing off all of the dirt, melted ice cream, and sweat from the poor child. “Felicity?”

She heard Oliver come in, and she looked down at Sara, who froze, her wide eyes looking up to meet hers. “Uh-oh, Sara,” Felicity said, feigning surprise, “Guess who’s home.”

“Felicity, what are you-” Oliver stopped in the doorway, a smile spreading across his face, “Well look who’s here. Sara Diggle, how did you get in here?”

Sara squealed at the sight of Oliver, kicking her legs and arms and splashing water all over Felicity. “Tub!” She hollered.

Oliver came and sat down next to Felicity, offering a hand to Sara that she took immediately and inspected. I see that,“ he chuckled, smiling down at her before turning to Felicity. "Hi,” he said, leaning over to kiss her.

“Hi,” she smiled, “How was your day?”

“It was good,” he sighed, looking back down at Sara, “Have you had this cutie all day?”

“Yeah, Waller needed Lyla so I took the day off to help.” Felicity watched as the look in Oliver’s eyes went from happiness to shame at the mention of Lyla. “Hey,” Felicity said, “She forgives you.” Oliver cocked his head to the side, but didn’t take his eyes away from Sara. Felicity dried her hands on a towel before reaching for him, running her hand down his back and pressing her forehead to his temple. “You have to forgive yourself, too.”

“Why? Dig doesn’t.”

Felicity kissed his cheek, “He’ll get there, Oliver. Just give him some more time.”

“He doesn’t trust me, Felicity.” Oliver said sadly, leaning his face against Felicity’s. “What do you think he’s going to say about this?” Oliver asked, watching Sara squeeze a rubber whale, shock on her face when water came out of the hole in the toy.

Felicity bit her lip, knowing that what she thought and what he needed to hear were not the same thing. “I think he’s going to understand that Lyla didn’t have a choice.” She said cautiously, “And I think he’s going to realize how much we love Sara; how much _you_ love Sara.” She sighed, reaching down to the baby and pulling her out of the water. Oliver grabbed a towel and held it open, wrapping Sara up in it when Felicity placed her in his arms.

Sara stared up at him, reaching her hand up to touch his face and giggle. Oliver beamed back down at her, he chuckled, “I feel like she’s telling me not to worry.” he laughed.

Felicity snorted, “Yeah, you should’ve heard her calm me down in the car this morning. That child is magic.”

Oliver looked up at Felicity, “Calm you down?”

“I may have been a little nervous.”

Oliver laughed as Sara began babbling as if she was telling Oliver all about it. After getting her in her pajamas, they set up her toys on the living room floor. Felicity laid across the couch surrounded by blocks that Sara kept handing her while Oliver sat on the floor below her, his back against the couch.

Felicity ran her fingers through his hair absently, and Oliver tipped his head back, looking at her from an upside down angle. She smiled down at him as Sara picked up her toy purse and headed to the window like she had very important places to be. “This is nice…” he said, turning around to face her.

Felicity raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. It is.”

“I think we’ll make pretty good parents someday.” He said halfheartedly, shrugging. But Felicity could hear the emotion in his voice, and she wondered how much thought he’d put into that idea.

“I don’t know if I could handle having a little _you_ running around.” She poked him.

Oliver laughed breathily before he glanced over at Sara, imagining what it would be like to have a daughter running around who spoke as fast as Felicity. "I would love to have a little _you_ , though.“

Sara picked up another block and handed it to Felicity. "Oh, thank you!” Felicity said, placing the block with the rest of her stash.

She glanced back at Oliver, who smiled up at her, “And our son would be _nothing_ like me.”

Felicity watched him, her heart faltering a little at his use of the words _our son_. She rolled her eyes, “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.” She smirked, nodding her head at Sara. Oliver picked his head up to look at the baby, who was playing with his shoelaces. He laughed, picking her up and pulling her to his chest. Sara immediately calmed, resting her arms over his and resting her head against his chest.

Felicity shifted, sitting up and opening her blanket up to them, she patted the seat beside her. Oliver stood up carefully, taking a seat on the couch beside Felicity, Sara still sprawled across his chest. Felicity shared her blanket, wrapping it up and over Sara before rubbing her back. Oliver stared down at her, “How did you get so good at this?”

Felicity shrugged, resting her head on his shoulder and curling her legs up, rubbing slow circles over Sara’s back. Sara turned her head so that she was facing Felicity, her eyes fighting to stay open. Felicity cuddled her head deeper into Oliver’s shoulder, her eyes on Sara’s.

And then she began to sing. And Oliver couldn’t help but stare at her in awe, surprised by how beautiful her voice was. After the conversation that they’d just had, Oliver couldn’t help but see Felicity singing to _their_ daughter like that. By the second verse of Billie Holiday’s _I’ll be Seeing You_ , Sara’s eyes were closed. Felicity continued to sing to the baby, unaware that Oliver was staring down at her and falling even more in love.


	18. Twisted Ankles and Supportive Partners

_[felicity-said-yes](http://felicity-said-yes.tumblr.com/):  Oliver can't stand seeing Felicity in any kind of pain. Even it was as minor as this was... _

* * *

“Felicity,” Oliver growled through the earpiece, raising his bow and firing an arrow into the leg of another man. “Could you hurry up… _please_?”

Felicity’s hands shook as she fidgeted with the power box. “I’m trying. I just have to break into the alarm system and turn the modulator off. It should only take a couple more minutes.” She could hear arrows whizzing over the comm, “Thank you for saying please, though, Oliver. You’re really getting better at _not_ yelling.”

“ _Felicity_.”

“Right,” She mumbled, focusing her fingers on the keypad. Once she broke into the system and disconnected their lines, she headed for a back exit, stepping into the alleyway and glancing around, “I’m in the back alley, can you and Dig get out?” Felicity walked quickly away from the building and towards the van that they’d parked down the street.

“On our way,” Diggle replied, nodding to Oliver and firing towards the men as they retreated. The men that were firing at them began to follow, and they ducked through the door.

Felicity heard them coming, heard that it wasn’t just Dig and Oliver, and she quickened her pace, pulling the keys out of her pocket. She turned her head to look behind her, watching as the boys ran backwards, firing at the three men who followed them.

But making sure that they were okay was a bad idea. Felicity didn’t see the dip in the pavement, and as she stepped into it with her head turned backwards, her heel broke and she fell, a surprised yelp escaping her.

Oliver turned to look at her, “Felicity?” He asked; his voice panicked, distracted by her scream. But making sure that Felicity was okay was a bad idea. Through his hindrance, he felt a bullet graze his arm. He lifted his bow and hit the last man in the arm, his gun flying from his hand.

Felicity looked up at him, getting to her knees, “Ow,” she groaned.

He ran over to her, lifting her off of the ground and rushing her to the van. He took the keys from her hand, throwing them to Diggle before he put her in the backseat and climbed over her. As Dig drove off, he turned to her, “Are you okay?”

Felicity held up her shoe, the heel lost somewhere on the street that they were currently speeding off of. “I just tripped on a pothole and broke my shoe.” She deadpanned, like she couldn’t even believe how ridiculous that sounded.

Oliver fought a smile, and she glared at him, “Oliver, don’t you dare laugh at me-” her eyes fell to his arm and she saw the blood. “They shot you!?”

Oliver glanced down at his arm, wiping the blood away with his gloved hand, he shrugged, “Barely even grazed me. No stitches. I doubt it’ll even leave a scar.”

“Good,” she sighed, “Can you imagine sitting around the table at Thanksgiving, telling our friends about the scar on your arm that you got because you were distracted by your girlfriend falling in a ditch?” She shook her head slowly.

Oliver laughed, “Oh, we’ll still be telling this story. At _every_ holiday gathering.”

It wasn’t until they were back at the foundry that she realized her ankle was hurt. Stepping out of the van, she felt pain rush from her ankle and up her leg. She winced with a sharp breath as her leg gave out. Diggle was beside her, and he caught her easily. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, lifting her back into the van and setting her on the seat.

Oliver rushed around the van as Diggle lifted Felicity’s leg, inspecting her ankle. Dig smiled, shaking his head, “Looks like that ditch won this round; broken shoe, gunshot wound, and a twisted ankle…all because of a little pothole.”

“Don’t blame the ditch,” Felicity teased back, “Blame your clumsy partner.”

“She’s okay?” Oliver asked, his voice an octave higher in concern.

“Yeah, yeah,” Diggle answered, pressing his fingers into her foot, “We should probably get this wrapped up and put some ice on it,” he continued. “Stay off of it for the next two or three days,” Diggle shrugged, “and I think she’ll be fine.”

“You think?” Oliver asked calmly, trying to pretend he wasn’t worried.

Diggle just laughed and shook his head, seeing right through it, “Yes. She’s going to make it, Oliver. Just buy her some ice cream and keep the computers within arms length.”

Felicity nodded, reaching her arms out to Oliver and moving her fingers, smiling up at him sweetly. Oliver chuckled, wrapping his arms around her easily and picking her up. She slid one arm around his shoulder while the other hand fell to graze his chest. “Does this mean I get to have you guys carry me around for the next three days?”

Diggle snorted, walking ahead of them and opening the door, “In your dreams. It just means we’re getting you some crutches.”

Felicity frowned, “That doesn’t sound nearly as sexy.”


	19. Did You Rob a Sex Shop or Something?

_Anonymous: Olicity prompt "i’m helping you move and just found all your bdsm gear" LOL thank you so much _

* * *

“How do you even have this many clothes? And how is it even possible to fit this many clothes in such a small closet?”

Felicity froze, switching the phone to the other ear, “Wait, you’re in my closet?”

“Well, yeah, when you said to pack up the stuff from your bedroom…the closet is kind of in your bedroom.”

She laughed nervously, “Oliver, don’t bother with the closet. I’ll deal with that stuff later. It’s a mess.”

Oliver hesitated, glancing around the closet for whatever was making her voice get so high pitched and nervous. “No, no, it’s not a problem.” He answered, immediately digging through the stuff, knowing whatever it was would be good because her voice was doing that panicked thing.

“Oliver, really, I just meant the things that I left out on my bed and on the floor; I haven’t cleaned out the stuff in there in, oh god, I don’t even know. Way too long. Who knows what’s even in there? Not me.” As she spoke, Oliver dug through the back of her closet. He found a box buried and pulled it out, smiling at the label that read _‘For the big girl’s big day, xoxo.’_ in sharpie.

He smiled, setting it on the bed, “Aw, baby, I think I found some of your old stuff from your mom.”

“Don’t open that!” Felicity yelled.

Oliver froze with his fingers over the cardboard flaps. “Why not?”

“It’s just…old dance costumes and pictures and stuff.”

He sighed, “Felicity, I love you. But you’re acting so strange right now that I can’t stop myself from opening this box.” He said, pulling open the flap.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her forehead to her fist. She waited, but he didn’t say anything for a few long moments. “Did you open it?” She asked.

“What the hell is this stuff?” He said, his voice instinctively angry at the thought of _this_ being her past sex life with other men. “Felicity, why-” He stopped, quickly dropping a glow in the dark vibrator back in the box as soon as he realized what it was. “Did you rob a sex shop or something?” He slowly pulled out a whip and held it up.

“No.” She said, rolling her eyes, “It’s from my 21st birthday. All of the girls thought it would be funny to get me presents with the same theme…they chose BDSM and called it my sexual awakening; hence the _box_ full of it.”

“Why would they think you needed a sexual awakening?” He asked, his voice a little bit lighter now that she explained.

Felicity pursed her lips, “Cooper was my first…” She hesitated, not knowing how many details Oliver actually wanted to hear, “Let’s just say that when I told them about…our…you know, time together, they laughed. They started calling him Vanilla for the rest of the year.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “So, you’re saying that you got all of these things, and you’ve never used them with anyone?”

“Well, I mean, _I_ didn’t get them.” She reminded him sternly, “But yes.”

Oliver picket up a black corset and matching blindfold. “Maybe we should change that.”

“Oliver!” Felicity laughed, “There’s a reason none of those things have been touched.”

“Because you weren’t dating Oliver Queen?”

Felicity laughed again, “Oliver, I’m going to just give this conversation a hard ‘no’ right now.”

“What if I let _you_ tie _me_ up?” He asked, picking up a pair of handcuffs.

She raised an eyebrow, picturing him, his hands tied to the headboard of her bed, “ _Oh_.”

A dark smile spread across Oliver’s face, “I’ll be waiting here for you.” He said  with a laugh.


	20. Sex Trafficking Mission

Anonymous: Can you write a fic where team arrow busts a sex trafficking trade and Felicity is especially effected and Oliver helps her cope

* * *

 

“Are you okay?”

“She’s only twelve years old, Oliver.” Her eyes were filling with tears that she’d been refusing all week to let fall. She sat in the darkness of the bunker, and Oliver couldn’t help but remember all of times that he had done that; sat there alone and in the darkness just wallowing in remorse and regret. 

She’d gotten a call from a woman named Bridget Donovan a week ago, saying that her daughter had been kidnapped and she needed her help. Apparently Bridget was a friend of her mother’s, and Donna had told her to call Felicity. At first, Felicity had been irritated that her mother was just throwing her number and her connection to The Green Arrow around, but after hearing Bridget’s story, Felicity knew that her mother had done the right thing. Bridget’s daughter Lucy had walked to a friend’s house for a sleepover and never came home. The friend said that Lucy never showed up. Felicity used traffic cameras to identify a car that had picked Lucy up only a block away from her friend’s house. And when she ran the license plates, she found out that the man who owned the car was more than a kidnapper. He was involved in sex trafficking. Her heart had dropped, and she’d stayed awake for two days trying to track him down.

 "Do you know what they did to her?“ She asked through the dark silence.

Oliver bent down to her chair, closing his hands over hers and rubbing them, “People are capable of horrible things, Felicity…unthinkable hatred. Sometimes those actions and beliefs end in a lot of death and tragedy. But it didn’t today. We saved Lucy Donovan and the other girls. They’re going to be okay, Felicity.”

“Those girls will never be the same again, Oliver. Not after what those men took from them.”

“No, they won’t. They’ll be stronger. They’ll be _alive_.”

“I know, I know…” She sighed, “I just can’t help thinking that those men have been doing this for years though, Oliver. Their ’ _business’_ has been in this city long before you even came home. There are men like them all over the country, all over the world. They kidnap girls, _children_ , and they sell them like animals.” Her voice cracked, and she took a moment to breathe, “I just can’t help but think about how many girls like Lucy are still out there. How many of them have fallen off the grid, too far gone for me to find them and bring them home.”

“Felicity…you can’t think like that. You didn’t just save Lucy today. You saved those three dozen other girls that were about to be transported out of the country. You stopped those men from hurting hundreds of other girls.”

“But I can’t save all of them, Oliver.” She stood up to pace.

Oliver stood too, catching her wrist and pulling her into his chest, “You can’t give up just because you can’t save them all.” He mumbled into her hair, “You can fight for them. I saw the way Lucy looked at you when you pulled her out of that shipping container, Felicity. You were her hero. You’re right, you can’t save all of them. But you can still try. You can always try.”

Felicity sighed into his chest. “We.”

“What?” He asked.

“ _We_ can always try. I didn’t do this alone. You’re a hero too, you know. You’re kind of _my_ hero.”

Oliver sighed, knowing that words like that, coming from her mouth, were and always would be what saves him. Knowing that he was her hero, when she was his, made his burdens a little easier to carry.

As much as he helped her, she helped him. It was a two way street.

“We fight for what is right, Felicity. And sometimes we lose. Sometimes people die and we can’t save them. But days like this are what makes it worth it to me. Days that have a happy ending. I’m standing here holding you…and I’m not thinking about all of the lives we couldn’t save. I’m thinking about all of those girls going home. All of those mothers who get to hold their daughters again because of what we did today. That’s what makes it worth it.”

“You’re right.” She sighed, pressing her lips to his chest and running her hands up his back. She breathed him in, letting herself feel safe and relieved in his arms. “I love you.” She said quietly, pressing her lips to his chest again.

Oliver gently put his finger under his chin and lifted her face, waiting until she looked into his eyes. "I love you.“ He murmured back. And she knew that it was the truest thing in the world.


	21. Sisterly Bonding

                                                                  Anonymous asked: Can you write a fic where Felicity comforts Thea? 

* * *

Felicity danced around the kitchen attempting to make the recipe Oliver had shown her how to make several times…yet she always found a new way to mess it up. She stirred the sauce, the enemy of her evening, frowning as she tasted it. Something was off; she knew it, but she shrugged and continued shaking her hips and singing along with the radio as she added more salt.

There was a soft knock on her door and she hollered “Come in!” before remembering the countless lectures Oliver and John had given her about being cautious, telling her to always have her guard up.

She felt tension in her neck while the door slowly opened and Oliver stepped inside, leading Thea into her apartment. “Whoa,” Felicity said, taking in Thea’s mascara stained face, puffy eyes, and shaky hands. Oliver shifted from one foot to the other, not seeming to know what to do with his upset little sister.

“Felicity, we talked about being careful with who you let into your apartment, remember?”

“Yes,” Felicity shot back, keeping her eye on Thea while she crossed her arms. “But I forgot. And that was before I had you.” Felicity nodded towards Thea, her eyes questioning while Thea wiped the tears from her face.

Oliver stared at her for another moment, and Felicity glanced between him and his sister until he cleared his throat. “Thea’s upset.” He said, sliding his hand over his sister’s back.

“I can see that…”

“I brought her here because I thought that it might be good for her to talk to you, you know, someone who wasn’t really involved in all of it…someone who can be unbiased.” Oliver continued to stare at her as if he was trying to convey something important in the unspoken. Felicity just stared back, confused.

She raised an eyebrow, “You brought your sister here to have a girl talk?”

Thea rolled her eyes, “I’m sorry, Felicity. I told Ollie that this was a bad idea. It was stupid. We’re sorry to interrupt your night.” Thea headed for the door, pulling on Oliver’s jacket.

“Hey,” Felicity said, stopping them, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to talk, Thea. I’m sorry. Oliver, why don’t you go get some food from Big Belly Burger and give me a minute.”

Oliver looked behind her at the mess of her kitchen. “It looks like you’re already making dinner.”

“You don’t want to eat that, trust me.” She cringed. Oliver shook his head, and she swore that she saw the faintest glimmer of humor on his face before he kissed Thea’s head and left. Once the door closed behind him, Felicity made her way to the couch and sat down, patting the seat beside her for Thea. “So,” she said, “What’s going on?”

Thea sighed, plopping on the couch next to her. “I know what I did. Oliver told me on Lian Yu. I know that I killed Sara, Felicity.”

Felicity bit her lip, “Thea…”

“He said that Malcolm drugged me and made me do it. But I just…I feel like I can’t make an excuse. I’ve lived my whole life hiding behind money and my family’s protection because I’m Thea Queen. But how can I not be blamed for firing arrows into Sara’s chest?” Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “She was my friend. I feel like I lost a part of myself, you know? It was like I’ve had this darkness inside of me ever since I came home, and it all finally makes sense.”

Felicity nodded slowly, making a very strong effort to think before she spoke. “Thea, I know that right now, you regret letting Malcolm into your life. And you blame yourself…but this wasn’t your fault. Malcolm manipulated you…he…he  _violated_ you, Thea. And that is what’s hurting you. You’re not a killer. It wasn’t Malcolm that made you strong, Thea. That was you. And the girl that I’ve seen these past few months is fearless, and brave, and so powerful. You’ve forgiven Oliver without him even asking for an apology. Your faith in Roy, in your brother, in all of us…it’s inspiring. So, listen to me.” Felicity rubbed her thumb over Thea’s hand, making sure that she had her attention. “You are not your father. You’re not Malcolm, Thea.”

Thea nodded, fresh tears soaking her face, but she forced a smile. “I see why Ollie made me come here.”

Felicity smiled back, “I’m always here for you.”

Thea sighed, “I know.”

Felicity pulled Thea in, tucking her under her arm and kissing her forehead, “You might not have the dad of the year, Thea. But you do have a lot of people who love you and know who you are. Oliver is one of them. He’d do anything for you.”

Thea nodded, snuggling closer into Felicity, and Felicity smoothed her hair behind her ear. “I know.”

Oliver opened the door with a brown bag from Big Belly Burger in hand. Thea didn’t budge, and Felicity could feel her weight getting heavier. She was falling asleep, finally having a little peace of mind after who knows how long of tormenting herself over Malcolm’s crimes.

She raised an eyebrow at Oliver, who smiled sheepishly as he closed the door. An apology was in his eyes for intruding on her night. But Felicity felt better than she had since Oliver came back from his trip to fight Ra’s, since the man she fantasized about coming home finally walked through the door no different than when he’d left. Something felt different now though, with Thea tucked under her arm and Oliver walking through her front door without knocking. Having Thea and Oliver in her apartment felt strangely comforting, almost like home. Familiar and different at the same time.

Oliver sat down on the chair across from her, placing the bag of food on her coffee table. He kept his eyes on Felicity’s. “Why did you bring her here, Oliver?” Felicity whispered.

Oliver sighed, “I don’t know. I tried to talk to her, but nothing I said was working. She just kept telling me that I was making excuses for her and that I had to protect her because I was her brother.”

“But why did you bring her to  _me_ , Oliver?”

He hesitated. “I guess I just thought that…when I feel like she does right now…when I feel like something is broken inside of me…you always just…make it better somehow. You heal me,” he confessed, his eyes boring into hers. She felt her heart clench with the intensity of his stare and his words, confident and honest. “I guess I knew that Thea could use some of that healing. I  _wanted_ her to see you…the way that I see you.”

Felicity watched him, struggling for the words to describe what he’d already told her. He loved her. He wanted his sister to love her, too. And Felicity couldn’t help but feel warm by that thought, especially with Thea curled up under her arm.

“I’m sorry, I should have called first. I didn’t mean to impose, you could have had…plans, or something.” Oliver’s eyes shifted down the hallway, towards her bedroom.

“Ray’s not here.” She said quietly. Oliver’s eyes flickered back to hers, and there was a moment of vulnerability in them where she saw the pain that she was causing him. It was a brief moment where her stomach twisted because it was like she could see right into his soul. Unguarded and open, she knew that everything with Ray was bothering him, but she also knew that he would never tell her that. He glanced away, his face smoothing. “Thea can sleep here, if you want. I mean, if you don’t want to wake her up.” She rambled.

Oliver nodded, standing up as if he was already heading for the door, the reminder of Ray making him want to bolt. “Oliver.” She said, stopping him. “Do you want to eat?”

Oliver glanced at the door and then back at her. She could tell that he wasn’t sure whether or not she actually wanted him to stay. She was sending a lot of mixed signals lately, but in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be with him. “Eat dinner, with me, I mean?” She finished, her voice low, but nervous. Always nervous when it came to him.

Oliver nodded, picking the bag up from the table and opening it, setting the food out. When he was finished, he glanced at his snoring sister, asleep on Felicity’s chest.

“Would you mind carrying her to my bed?” Felicity asked.  “I don’t want her to sleep on the couch all night.”

Oliver nodded, picking Thea up and carrying her down the hall. He turned Felicity’s bedroom light off but left the door open on his way back, and Felicity felt a strange moment of panic at the thought of Oliver being in her bedroom. He was only in there to let his sister get some rest. Felicity wasn’t even in the room, and he’d been in there for all of ten seconds; but it still made her breath catch in her throat.

Oliver sat down on the floor in her living room, in front of the table of food, and Felicity moved off of the couch to sit across from him.

They shared a meal on her living room floor without even once talking about Arrow business or pain. Oliver broke the initial awkward silence with a story about Thea; being three years old and breaking her arm after falling off of the counter in the kitchen. She’d been trying to reach gummy bears on the highest shelf, and Oliver chuckled as he explained that Moira had to hide them up there because Thea would eat an entire bag and then get sick.

Felicity shared her own stories, and heard a few about Oliver’s reckless tendencies as a child; which didn’t surprise her at all. He kept to stories before high school, before his playboy days. But she couldn’t help but feel a whole lot of emotions over getting to know a little bit about who he was before all of the pain and torment.

After they ate, Oliver double, and triple checked that Felicity was okay with Thea staying over. Thea was still asleep, and Felicity assured him that it was better to let her sleep than wake her up anyway.

Once he was gone, Felicity picked up the trash from their dinner and smiled to herself, thinking that sitting on her living room floor after an impossibly heartbreaking conversation with Thea was the closest thing they’d had to a date since their first one that exploded. Felicity climbed into her bed next to Thea and glanced at the sleeping girl that reminded her so much of her older brother. Oliver had said that Thea had a scar from her fall after the gummy bear incident, and even in the dark Felicity could see the protruding pink mark on her shoulder. She could finally understand why Oliver protected Thea so fiercely; she was special, and she was so easy to love.

Thea may not have been through the physical torture that Oliver endured, but Felicity knew that she had been dealt a hand in life that she did not ask for, and one that Felicity didn’t envy. Her father’s death, her brother coming back from the dead, her mother being killed in front of her, finding out that Malcolm Merlyn was her father, and now everything with Sara’s death…Felicity realized that Thea was just as strong as Oliver. And every day that she knew Thea, her heart opened up just a little bit more for her other favorite Queen.

 


	22. What Happens When it's Sara's Bedtime

sailorchibimoonunicorn  asked: Felicity and Oliver have a sleepover with Baby Sara, (giving her parents a much deserved date night) Felicity walks in on Oliver tucking Sara in with a bedtime story. :D

* * *

“All right, little girl,” Felicity said, heaving herself off of the floor, “I think it’s time for bed.”

Sara shot up, running for the stairs, “Uncle Ollie!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. Felicity smirked, knowing what was coming. Oliver came out of the bedroom to stand at the top of the stairs. Sara started climbing them on her hands and knees. For a three year old with two heroes for parents, the girl was surprisingly clumsy. When she reached the top, Oliver picked her up. “Aunt Licity said bed time.” Sara frowned, giving Oliver her best puppy dog eyes.

Oliver turned his gaze to Felicity, who rolled her eyes. “Lyla will kill me if that kid is cranky tomorrow.” She warned him, “Don’t let her sweet talk you this time Oliver. I mean it.” Sara was too smart for her age, and she knew that asking Oliver for anything would always end in a yes.

Oliver chuckled, “Well, your Aunt Felicity knows what’s best. I don’t question her for a minute.” Felicity couldn’t stop the snort that came out of her. Oliver winked from the top of the stairs, and she cocked her head to the side, smiling back. He shifted Sara so that they were both looking down at Felicity. “Say goodnight to Aunt Felcity.”

“G’ night Aunt Licity. See you ‘morrow. I lub you!” She was at a stage where V sounds blended with B sounds. And her J’s were Z’s.

Felicity laughed, blowing them a kiss, “I lub you too, Sara. And you.” She pointed a finger at Oliver.

While Oliver put her to bed, Felicity cleaned up the toys, washed the dishes, and folded a load of laundry that she’d only had to do because Sara decided she liked her spaghetti better on her shirt than in her mouth.

She sighed as she started up the stairs, ready for a back massage from Oliver and a warm bath. Maybe at the same time. When she reached the top of the stairs, she could hear Sara talking, and Felicity hesitated. She should’ve been asleep nearly an hour ago.

Felicity crossed her arms as she reached the door to the guest room that had slowly become Sara’s room for nights like this. Occasionally Thea took it over, but the mess of toys made it undoubtedly Sara’s. The room was dark, but dimly illuminated near Sara’s bed from her green night light. Oliver was pulling the blanket up to Sara’s chin, sitting on the floor beside her bed. “Okay,” He sighed, crossing one leg under the other, “You need to sleep or your aunt is going to be very mad at me.”

“Mommy too!” Sara offered.

Oliver laughed, “Yep, she’d be angry too. So close your eyes, okay?” He said, taking her hand, “I’ll sit right here until you fall asleep.”

Sara nodded, “You tell me story?” She asked in her innocent little voice. Felicity leaned against the door.

She watched as Oliver shrugged, putting his hand on the guard rail of her bed and resting his chin on it. “What kind of story do you want to hear?”

“One ‘bout Aunt Licity.” Sara said softly. Felicity rested her head against the doorframe, smiling softly and holding a hand over her stomach.

Oliver hesitated for a moment, “Do you want to hear about the day that I married her?” He asked, and Sara nodded quickly. Felicity bit her lip, hearing the smile in his voice.

He laughed again, “Okay. Well, I was with your daddy that morning. And your mommy called and said that she and Aunt Felicity were going to be late to our wedding.”

“Why!?” Sara shrieked, her voice high and confused like it was the worst news she’d ever heard. Felicity smiled.

“She forgot something very important. See, your mom and your aunt had a few mimosas before the ceremony-”

“ _Mimo-sass_?” Sara asked, her voice rising and her brow furrowing.

Felicity put her hand over her lips to keep from laughing as Oliver hesitated, “It’s a big girl drink. Anyway, Aunt Felicity was a little nervous about getting married to me and she completely forgot-”

“Why?” Sara asked again.

Oliver shook his head at the memory, “I don’t know. Weddings tend to make brides nervous. I was cool as a cucumber, though.” He told her, and Felicity shook her head; still in awe at how calm he was on that day. She’d been a nervous wreck, afraid that her dress would rip or that she’d trip down the aisle. But Oliver didn’t have a care in the world. He was just happy to be marrying her.

“What Aunt Licity forget?” Sara asked seriously.

Oliver took a dramatic pause, “Do you really want to know?“ He asked, teasing her for her constant interrupting. Sara nodded and squeezed his hand. "Aunt Felicity forgot her  _shoes_.”

“Her  _shoes_!?” Sara squeaked, giggling uncontrollably.

Oliver nodded, “I know, I know. I still married her anyway, but we had to do the ceremony shoeless. She made me take mine off too. And your parents and aunt Thea. We were lucky we were on a beach.” Oliver laughed.

Sara tipped her head to the side as her giggling continued, and she noticed Felicity in the doorway. Sara got a mischievous gleam in her eye as she turned back to Oliver, “Uncle Ollie, you happy you marry Aunt Licity?” She asked.

Oliver chuckled, “Every day.”

“You lub her?”

“Of course I lub her. Very much.” He said, patting her hand.

Sara pursed her lips, “Dis much?” She asked, outstretching her arms.

“Even  _more_. With my whole heart.” He answered, and Sara watched as Felicity stared at him.

Sara smiled like her plan was complete, “Her lubs Uncle Ollie, too.”

Oliver followed Sara’s gaze to Felicity, and he laughed. Felicity picked her head up, “I think you’re right.” She said, entering the room as Oliver stood up. Felicity wrapped her arm around his middle and he hugged her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Okay kid,” Felicity said slowly, narrowing her eyes at Sara, “It’s  _really_  bed time, now.”

Oliver sighed, “She can’t sleep if I don’t sit with her.”

Felicity smiled while Sara’s gaze shifted to the stars on her ceiling and she clamped her little lips shut. “Yes she can.” Felicity laughed, "She tricked you. I told you not to fall for it.“

"What?” He asked, his voice mocking betrayal as his jaw fell open. “You said you were afraid of the 'gark’ and you needed me to 'hold you hand’”.

Sara giggled and shook her head back and forth. Felicity leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Bed, little trouble maker." She warned, standing back up and following Oliver to the door.

Felicity closed Sara’s door gently, her eyes adjusting to the lights in the hallway. "That kid really knows how to manipulate you.” Oliver sighed, taking her hand and leading her to their bedroom.

Felicity snorted, “Oh no, she knows how to manipulate  _you_. That girl has you wrapped around her finger.” Felicity teased.

Oliver pulled his shirt off and fell onto the bed, “Yeah,” He sighed, “But so do you.” Felicity smiled at him as she undressed. “I really hope we have a boy.” He frowned, “Otherwise Dig and I are going to be so screwed.”

Felicity laughed, wrapping her robe around herself, she flattened her hands against her stomach. She was only two months. They hadn’t told anyone yet, but they had a hard time hiding their excitement…especially when the Diggles asked them to babysit for the night. Neither of them could stop thinking about how nights like that were going to soon be their lives.


	23. Even Now: Comfort (Olicity Hiatus fic-a-thon)

Technically not a prompt that was sent to me!

This was done for the @olicityhiatusficathon prompt: **Comfort**. I wrote this based on the song Even Now by Dashboard Confessional, which has been breaking my heart as I’ve been listening to it on repeat for wayyy too long…And I’ve been itching to write some Olicity feels for it! The prompt fit perfectly, so hello, just wanted to join in on the fun this week:)

Find me on [Tumblr ](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/)and send me a prompt anytime!

* * *

 

Pulling a towel and her favorite flannel that he’d once called his from the dryer, Oliver moved to walk up the stairs. He moved slowly and silently, trying to listen, to hear if she was getting out of the tub on her own.

He sighed, hesitating at the bathroom door to compose himself, to push the sadness down, before stepping into the room, feeling the cool tiles beneath his feet.

Felicity’s eyes didn’t shift to him like they usually did, and he watched her carefully. Taking the towel, he stepped over to the tub, putting his hand in the water of her bath and feeling that it was getting cooler. “Ready to get out?” He spoke quietly, knowing that he wouldn’t get an answer.

Oliver tossed the towel over his shoulder and leaned down slowly, knowing to keep his movements predictable so he wouldn’t startle her. He gently placed his hands under her armpits and lifted her, waiting a moment until he knew that she was steady on her feet before he pulled back, taking the towel off of his shoulder and shaking it out. He watched as a shiver ran over her and her skin grew goosebumps as it met the cold air.

He wrapped the giant towel around her, tucking it under her chin and pulling it tight. He focused on making sure that she was securely wrapped up in the towel from her chin to her knees. His towel; the over-sized one that he’d once given her a hard time about always stealing from him.

It seemed silly, but it made him feel better to let himself think that it brought her some kind of comfort on these nights.

Moving his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up, he watched as she buried her mouth into the soft, warm material. He glanced up at her, and froze when he met her gaze. It’d been a long time since she’d been like this, and his heart felt a little lighter, seeing that she wasn’t the shell of the person she used to be when it got this bad.

Looking into her eyes now, he could still see her in there, when he’d once seen emptiness. And even now, he loved her just as much as he always had.

She stared back, and he wrapped his arms around her for a moment, needing to have her in his arms. He felt her nuzzle into his neck on instinct. He hadn’t heard her voice in hours, but he knew that they were in a place now where they didn’t need words to talk to each other. He could feel her appreciation for this moment, and for all of the ones before it.

And he felt loved.

Felicity was incredible at making him feel loved; with her touches, with her words, with her actions, with everything she was. But he knew that there was something special in that moment, when she wasn’t herself, but she still found a way to tell him how much she loved him. Even if it was just a feeling, he knew it was real and he knew it came from her.

“Okay,” he whispered, pulling back enough to press a kiss to her forehead, “Let’s get you into bed.” He leaned over, scooping her up into his arms. She was tightly tucked into her towel, but she nestled into his arms as he carried her, her feet dripping water across the floor.

Oliver pressed his nose to her hair, taking in the familiar scent of her shampoo that he loved, letting it comfort him like he always did whenever he needed the security that she was okay, that she was there.

He placed her on the edge of their bed before picking up the flannel, thankful that it was still warm. “I love you.” He mumbled, kissing her temple and dropping the towel. He quickly pulled the flannel over her shoulders, gently guiding her arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up. He pulled his sweatpants from the drawer, guiding them up her legs and lifting her to stand, he secured them around her waist. Oliver leaned behind her to grab the wet towel from the bed, discarding it across the floor.

He reached for a hair tie from the nightstand on her side of the bed, twisting it onto his wrist before getting a hairbrush from the bathroom.

Oliver gently guided her to sit on the bed, and then he ran the brush through her blonde, already curling hair. She sat motionless, staring at the reflection in the mirror from their dresser, her face blank.

Once finished, he tossed the brush in the direction of the towel and carefully tied her hair up, remembering exactly how to adjust the bun onto the top of her head so that her wet hair would stay out of her face.

Oliver lifted her again just to lay her down on her side of the bed, putting her head on her pillow before leaning back. He watched as she stayed still, just lying where he’d placed her and looking up at the ceiling vacantly. Making himself comfortable beside her, he pulled the blanket from the end of their bed and draped it over her. He slipped himself under the comforter, then lifted her with one arm at her hips, pulling the second blanket over her with the other.

Oliver sighed, settling in beside her, he watched the ceiling just as she did. It’d been almost a year since she’d slipped into one of these trances. They used to be frequent, at least a few times a week; for months after he found her in an abandoned warehouse, chained to the floor and beaten. She’d spent weeks in there, alternating between being tortured and listening to their friends being tortured, and it had taken an understandable toll.

Back then, she’d always seemed content to let him hold her until she fell asleep; but he wasn’t sure what was wrong, or if she wanted that, or really what she needed at all.

She’d been indifferent when he’d fed her soup, when he’d started a fire and offered to hold her on the couch, indifferent when he suggested a warm bath.

He glanced at her, her eyes still glued to the ceiling. Oliver looked back up too, wondering what she was seeing.

He felt her hand first…gently reach over to rest over his. Her touch was so light, it barely felt like anything at all. Looking at her again, he saw a tear falling from the corner of her eye, and he turned onto his side, slowly moving across the bed to rest his head on the edge of her pillow, turning his hand over to lace his fingers through hers.

“Cold,” she whispered, her voice so soft that he knew he wouldn’t have even heard her if he hadn’t been so close. As she spoke, her eyes blinked back moisture, and she shook slightly. Oliver sighed, swallowing the lump in his throat and feeling his heart reaching out to her, cursing whatever gods would do this to someone like her, wishing he could make her feel okay again. He tossed his arm across her chest and one of his legs over hers. He nestled his face into her neck, breathing in for him; to smell her hair, her skin. And breathing out for her; to warm her.

This was one thing he hadn’t missed, that he would never miss. She was always so cold, and as much as he loved being wrapped around her, it never settled right with him to have to do it like this; that she was so cold that soup, a fire, a bath, warm towels and clothes, and two blankets wouldn’t warm her up. But he held himself together knowing that it helped to have his body heat over her.

To his surprise, she turned her head, and he pulled back slightly, loosening his grip, not wanting to restrain her. Felicity shifted to her side, facing him. She nestled into his arms again, keeping herself safely under his arm and his leg, pressing her face to his chest. “Skin,” she said now, this time her voice a little louder, a little more desperate.

Oliver quickly obliged, knowing that this used to be something that always seemed to relax her. He pulled his shirt off and threw it over her shoulder, onto the floor. He settled back in, pulling her back to his body where she tucked herself in. He adjusted the first blanket over her legs, and then fidgeted with the comforter until it held them both in a cocoon.

She dug her fingers into his hip like she was gripping onto him for heat, and for comfort, and for stability. For him. He wanted nothing more than to give all of it to her.

Felicity, his beautiful Felicity, pressed her lips to his bare chest, and he shivered at how cold they were. Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around her, keeping her in a sheath of protection from the cold, between his arms and the blanket over their heads, creating a fortress that made him feel like a furnace.

He kept his arm tightly over her back, reaching his hand up behind her and smoothing her hair back, brushing the loose strands away from her neck and face. He could feel her breathing getting heavier, and he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that she was falling asleep and grateful for it, but knowing that his night would be restless until he got to talk to her again.

Keeping his fingers in her hair, Oliver pressed a kiss to her forehead, wishing he could see her face; wishing he could see how peaceful she looked as she fell asleep. It always made him feel at peace to see her like that; her expression soft and serene as she slept.

“Oliver,” He froze, his lips still pressed to her skin, hesitating as he tried to figure out if she was asleep or not. “Why do you put up with me?” She asked in one, sleepy breath.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head back to look down at her, keeping his arms and legs exactly as they were around her. “What are you talking about?” He asked softly.

He watched as her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him. He immediately sighed, seeing the fogginess in her gaze, like she was waking up; even though she hadn’t actually slept…she’d described those trances in one of their sessions with her therapist before as feeling like she was asleep. And he knew that it was a rare occasion for her to snap out of it, usually he coaxed her to sleep before she did. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled, her voice cracking, and her eyes filling with tears.

“Oh, shh, Felicity, it’s okay. You’re okay. Shh,”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m not.”

“Then you will be. I’m right here, baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?” She asked, her eyes blinking, confused. Even in the dimness under the blanket, even in a moment that was breaking his heart, he was struck by how beautiful she was; just as much on the inside as she was on the outside.

“Because I love you. And this, right here, under a blanket with you in my arms, my shirt, in our bed, is exactly where I want to be.”

She closed her eyes, and he could see the conflict in her mind. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to spend your life taking care of me like a toddler.” He heard the anger in her voice, and he had to take a deep breath to control his voice before he spoke; because he knew without a doubt that she was angry at herself. And it made him angry at the people who did this to her; at the trauma, she’d been through. It killed him to see her frustrated at herself like that, he knew how much she just wanted to feel like herself again, how much she wanted the pain and the nightmares to stop. He wanted it just as much.

And he knew it was worse since she thought they were over. A year had almost passed, and she was feeling more normal every day; this must feel like a setback to her. He smoothed his hand over her back, trying to sooth her mind and calm her down.

“Felicity,” he started, “We have been through so much together. I want to spend the rest of life taking care of you; just like you take care of me. I want everything with you. Only you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” She whispered.

Oliver shook his head. “Stop, Felicity. I know that this feels awful for you, I’ve been there. I’ve hated myself. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not even here…like you’re not anywhere. But you came into my life and I wanted to feel the warmth that you bring, the light. And now I get to give that gift back to you. Whenever you’re in that dark place, whenever you feel like that, or have a night like this, Felicity I promise…I will show you how much I love you. I’ll help you out of it.”

Felicity sighed, nuzzling her nose into his neck, and he exhaled, hoping that the worst of this storm was over, at least for now. “You always find me.” She whispered.

Oliver hesitated, shaking his head slightly, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She sighed, and he shivered as her breath rushed over his neck. “Whenever I used to have these nights, you brought me out of it; you do help me out of it. You always find me again, Oliver.”

Oliver let a breath out over her head, tightening his arms and running his lips over her hair, “I love you so much, Felicity. Never forget that.”

He felt her nodding, “I know. I love you, too.”

He hugged her even tighter, “Even then, even now…Always, Felicity.” He promised, kissing a fading scar that was barely visible anymore under her eyebrow. Oliver held her until she fell asleep under the comfort of the warm, safe blankets. Then he let his own eyes close as he drifted off.


	24. "We Need to Talk"

_Anonymous from[prompts](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/165064322489/drabble-challenge): #69 "We need to talk."_

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Throwing her purse on the counter, Felicity kicked her shoes off, cursing them as she stomped to the refrigerator. She pulled out a bottle of water and drank half of it in one sip. As she slammed the door shut, Oliver came into the loft. Her eyes narrowed at him as he shuffled in, keeping his head pointed down at his feet and carefully closing the door. “We need to talk.” She seethed, her voice on the brink of shouting.

Oliver’s movements were cautious and quiet, and she felt like screaming. His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, knowing exactly where she stood. “Don’t look at me like that.” She snarled, irritated by his large, apologetic blue eyes that usually made her anger waver. Not tonight.

He cleared his throat, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, ‘Hey, Felicity, I’d love to take the couch tonight.’ sounds like a good start to me.”

Oliver shoved his hands in his pockets, “Whatever you want.”

Felicity wasn’t sure if she wanted him to give her space or if she wanted a fight. She gripped her water bottle, “Is that all you have to say?”

He shifted uncomfortably, “I’m not sure how to make this better right now. I- I’m  _so_ sorry.”

“What were you  _thinking_?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Really? No thoughts going through your head at the time?”

“No. I wish I could give you a better answer, Felicity. I saw his hands on you and I just reacted.”

“You need to get a grip on your temper, Oliver.”

He nodded dutifully, “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He hardly ever got jealous anymore. And he’d never been the explosive type. Oliver was the opposite, in fact. He never let his emotions get the best of him. Especially at a gala…without a mask on. “Why did you do it?” She asked, raising her arms out and dropping them to her sides. “Have I done something that’s made you question how I feel about you?” She asked.

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, “No. You haven’t done anything, Felicity. Look, maybe we should just…talk about this tomorrow.”

He was afraid. She could see it all over him. He didn’t want them to say anything they might regret. “I need to know.” She whispered, dropping her shoulders, defeated. “I need to know why you decided to ruin my career with one punch.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed her hand to her chest, “Do you even care?”

His eyes darted to hers, “Of course I care. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. And I  _will_ fix this, Felicity. Your career isn’t ruined. I promise.”

“You  _punched_ my  _boss_!” She yelled, tears falling down her cheeks. “He was going to sign the company over to me and you knew that! You knew how much this meant to me, Oliver,” she said, her voice breaking. “Smoak Enterprise is my  _dream_. Now I don’t know if I even have a job at all. And what about you? Do you really think Star City wants a mayor that goes around punching people in the mouths? You owe me an explanation. At least tell me why!”

Oliver clenched his jaw, refusing to argue about this until he found a way to fix it.

Felicity kept her eyes trained on him, wiping her tears from her face as he stared back at her in silence. And then when she realized that she wasn’t going to get an answer, she let out a laugh of disbelief, still reeling from this conversation and the events that lead up to it. Felicity sighed, taking her purse and water bottle and slowly walking to the stairs. 

She moved like she felt: disheartened. 

Oliver touched her arm, and she jerked it away. “Felicity. He had his hands on you.” His voice was guarded but his eyes were pleading with her to understand.

She stared at him, her eyes watching him like she didn’t even recognize him. “When have I ever needed you to defend me, Oliver? I could have broken five of his fingers if I needed to.”

“I saw the look on your face, and I just reacted.” He said again. “You looked nervous, Felicity. I knew the second I saw you that you didn’t want him touching you…and I just…”

“ _Reacted_?” She asked, her face blank as she looked up at him. Oliver’s eyes begged her to understand, and he nodded. She glanced away. “Goodnight Oliver.”

Felicity slowly made her way up the stairs and immediately headed for the bathroom, wanting to wash off the hellish day and give Oliver enough time to get his things and get out of their bedroom.

She took a little longer in the shower than normal, focusing on washing her hair and body as she cried. And then she stood under the water for a while longer, letting the pressure of the stream beat against her back and soothe her muscles, knowing that Oliver’s fingers did a much better job at getting rid of the knots after a hard day.

Oliver was waiting for her when she entered their bedroom in her towel. She threw him a glare as she walked to the dresser, pulling out one of his t-shirts. “I think we’ve had enough for tonight, Oliver. Don’t you?”

He sat on the edge of their bed, looking at her with distrust in his eyes. She tossed his shirt over her head and dropped the towel. “Why didn’t you tell me that your boss has been sexually harassing you for months?” He asked, his voice distant.

Felicity froze as she was drying her damp hair with the towel. Meeting his gaze in the mirror on the closet door, she watched his sad features. “Who told you that? That’s not what was happening…” She said hesitantly.

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought. She recognized the look, trying to decipher her words. She sighed, “He made a few passes at me. He’s a flirt, Oliver. But he’s harmless.” Felicity turned around, “who told you that?”

Oliver looked down at his hands, “Curtis called to see how we were. I told him that it was  _you_ he should call and check in on. He said that he understood why I punched him, and that the guy deserved it. Curtis thought I hit him because I was defending you…over the way your boss has been treating you. But I guess I didn’t know anything about that.”

Felicity crossed the room and sat next to him. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to do anything stupid…like punch him at a party where he was going to announce my claim on the company.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have hit him if you’d told me, Felicity.” Oliver said, trying to keep his voice from rising.

She bit her lip, “Maybe.”

Oliver blew out a breath, “How could you stand there and put all the blame on me for what happened tonight?”

“I wasn’t the one throwing punches.”

“No,” he snapped, “you were the one  _lying_ and hiding this from me.”

“There wasn’t any point in getting you upset over it, Oliver! He’s a Coast City surfer who had no interest in being the CEO of his father’s company. He wants nothing to do with the business or with Star City. I was uncomfortable tonight because he was drunk and tried to hug me. It wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle. I would have  _owned_ the company, Oliver. Who cares if I had to turn down his offers to take me out to lunch, if I was one step closer to Smoak Enterprise?”  

“I care!” Oliver yelled, standing up to pace in front of the bed. “You should have told me.”

“What would you have done about it?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Oliver stopped and stared at her. “ _Nothing_ , Felicity.” He replied quickly, “I would have accepted that it wasn’t a problem if you said that it wasn’t. I would have believed that he was harmless if you told me about it in the first place. That’s not even the  _point_ , Felicity. The point is that you kept this from me. And I don’t understand why.”

Felicity hesitated, her heart rate picking up as her hands grew sweaty and fear crept in, not liking where the conversation was going. “This argument is silly.” She said gently, forcing a laugh. She needed this fight to be over now. She needed him to hold her and tell her that he wasn’t mad at her anymore.

“Did you…I just have to ask…did you like what he was doing? I mean, do you  _like_ him?” Oliver asked, his voice confused, but trying to understand.

“No!” Felicity screeched, her nervousness morphing into anger. “I’m  _marrying_ you! How could you even ask me that!?”

“Because I don’t see why else you would lie to me about this!”

“I wasn’t lying! I just didn’t want to make a big deal of it! I was  _this_ close to my dream coming true, Oliver! I was afraid of how you’d react!”

“I don’t know if I trust that, Felicity!”

Felicity stared, silence filling the room. Then she nodded once, blinking back more tears. Her throat felt raw, her heart tight. Dread filled her as the thought of losing him tainted her mind.

She stood up and walked across the room, toying with her ring. It suddenly felt very heavy on her finger. Constricting. Tormenting. Felicity didn’t look at him as she took the diamond off and set it on the dresser.

Without another word she headed for the door, not sure where her feet were taking her but knowing that it was out of that room. Her mind was blank and she felt like she was in a daze. Her feet took her down the hallway, her thoughts trying to catch up to what was happening, what his words had meant and what she’d done, but she couldn’t get her thoughts straight.

“What the  _fuck_ , Felicity!?” Oliver hollered from behind her.

The panic in his voice made her spin around, instinct making her feel like something was very wrong. Oliver stood by the bedroom door, his eyes wide and panicked. His hand was shaking where he held her ring. “Are you really going to put this ring down and walk away from me… _twice_?”

She was taken aback by the terror in his eyes and body. She opened her mouth to respond but words escaped her and she snapped it shut.

“You have to stop running.” He said, his voice pleading. “This ring means that we fight for each other. Together. When things get hard, we don’t walk away. That’s what  _this_ means.” He said, holding up the diamond. “I know that it can be intense sometimes. You know me. I don’t half-ass anything, and loving you is no exception, Felicity.”

Felicity softened at the fear that was so clearly pouring from him. “Okay.” She nodded, “You’re right.” She closed the distance between them. Standing in front of him again, she took the ring from his hand and slipped it back onto her finger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…that.” She sighed, “I love you. I want to marry you. But do you really not trust me? Because you said that you will always trust me…and if you don’t…”

Oliver shook his head, “I trust you. I didn’t mean… _that_ , either. And I love you. So much.”

Felicity let out a deep breath, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. His arms wound around her, holding her in a tight, safe embrace. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my boss.” She whispered. “I should have.”

“You’re going to have your own company, Felicity. We’ll fix this and he’ll sign it over to you. I’m sorry that my punching him makes things difficult for you.” He sighed, kissing the top of her head. “But I’m not sorry that I punched him.”


	25. "I Need a Place to Stay"

_Anonymous: Hi!! For the prompts.... #6 olicity maybe set in s5? Love your writing! :)_

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Felicity dropped her purse and coat onto her chair, taking in Oliver from where he sat at the table. His gray hoodie was zipped down enough that she could see the bandages on his chest. She shivered, remembering how he’d looked when he walked into the bunker…covered in his own blood and pale, his eyes vacant. 

She hadn’t been able to stop glancing down at the wound where it looked like Prometheus has mutilated him…taken off his tattoo. And she couldn’t stop looking at it now.

“I need a place to stay.” She said, raising her shoulders. Oliver didn’t look up from the spot on the table that he was staring at. “They’ve been fumigating the loft…and uh, since you’ve been gone I’ve been staying here or at Dig’s.”

He raised an eyebrow, but still didn’t look up. “Please go, Felicity.”

“Lyla’s sick…they don’t want me staying over there. She doesn’t want to get me sick. And you know me. I  _hate_ being sick. I turn into a five year old and think I’m dying…not…that that doesn’t sound insanely insensitive and whiny right now.” She hesitated in his silence, not even a slight smile at her babbling. “Are you okay, Oliver?”

“Call Curtis.”

“Why?” She asked.

“So you have a place to stay. A different place than here.”

“I did. He didn’t answer.”

Oliver let out a breath. “Just… _stop_. Felicity, please.”

Felicity shifted her weight. “I’m not going anywhere else, Oliver. I’m right here.”

He lifted his gaze to look at her, but he didn’t meet her eyes. His eyes only reached her feet. “I’m fine, Felicity. I just want to be alone.” He muttered.

Approaching slowly, Felicity knelt down in front of his chair. “What did he do to you?” She whispered.

“ _Leave_ , Felicity. I don’t want you here.”

“Fine. I’ll call John to come over then. Let  _someone_ be here for you Oliver. For  _once_!”

“ _Get_.  _Out_.” He growled, his voice low and on the edge of rage in a way that she’d only heard him use for his worst enemies. 

Felicity grabbed his face between her hands and lifted his head up. His chin obeyed but his eyes stayed downcast. “You can’t even look at me.” She said, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks. “What did he do to you?”

She hadn’t been able to sleep, thinking about Oliver down here, beating himself up mentally as badly as Prometheus had. She couldn’t stop imagining Adrian torturing him all week, but when she saw Oliver come back, saw that wound on his chest…she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Did he burn him until the Bratva tattoo was gone? Or had he  _cut_ his flesh right off? 

And what had he said to Oliver that made him unable to even look her in the eyes?

“Look at me,” She said, gripping his jaw. Finally lifting his eyes to hers for the first time since he came back, Felicity’s breath caught when she saw just how broken he was. “Oh, Oliver,” She whispered, nudging between his legs and wrapping her arms around him.

Oliver didn’t move. He waited until she let go, and then he stood up. “I need to be alone, Felicity.”

“No, you don’t. You think you need to rot down here, for what? Because Chase convinced you that you deserve it? Oliver…whatever he said, it was a lie. He was trying to break you down.”

Oliver turned around. “Look at me, Felicity,” he said gently, trying to lift his arms and flinching in pain. “He succeeded.”

She shook her head, stepping in front of him and touching his face again, “He hurt you. He tortured you. But you are so much stronger than to let him get inside your head. You’re a good man, Oliver Queen. Don’t let a psychopath like Adrian Chase let you believe differently.”

Oliver closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Felicity, but I just can’t. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t put on that hood and pretend that I’m helping people. I’m not saving anyone.”

“What does that mean? The fact that you could even  _believe_ that…breaks my heart. You’ve saved so many people, Oliver. You’ve made this city safer, you’ve made it so that people don’t have to run away from mirakuru soldiers, or Malcolm Merlyn trying to destroy their homes.”

“Those soldiers killed people. Malcolm’s machine destroyed half the city. What did I really do?”

Felicity ran her hands down his arms, holding onto his cold fingers and narrowing her eyes, “You saved lives, Oliver.” She mumbled, looking into his eyes and trying to shake whatever terror Prometheus caused inside of him. “You stop the bad guys. The city needs you.”

Oliver pulled his hands from hers, “I can’t…I can’t hear this right now. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay? I just want you to leave.”

He turned away from her, limping towards the back room. Felicity followed. “Well, too bad.” She followed him into the small room with a bed that barely fit in it. Oliver sunk onto the bed, dropping his head in his hands. Felicity quickly stepped into the room and sat beside him. “I’m not going anywhere.” She whispered, pulling him against her body.

Oliver finally gave in, resting his head on her chest and holding onto her. He exhaled, the breath full of emotions that he was refusing to open up about. He kept it in, never trusting her. But that didn’t surprise her. She didn’t even care at that moment. Felicity leaned back,dragging Oliver onto the mattress with her.

He let her kick off both of their shoes and get comfortable under the blankets, and then her fingers were lightly tracing his shoulder and arm, running through his hair. She kissed the top of his head and he let out a deep breath. “That feels good.” He mumbled, already on the edge of sleep.

Felicity bit her lip, wondering how much sleep he’d gotten in the week that Prometheus had him. “Sleep, Oliver.” She whispered, pressing her cheek against his head and holding onto him as tightly as she could.

“Felicity…” he trailed off, and she thought that he’d fallen asleep. “The loft isn’t being fumigated, is it?”

She shook her head, smelling his hair as her nose grazed it. His hold on her tightened. “And Lyla’s not sick.”

“No,” she whispered.

Oliver sighed. nuzzling his face against her neck. “Thank you.”

Felicity let out a breath, “You’re welcome.”


	26. Can't Go Back

_[cru-ush](http://cru-ush.tumblr.com/) asked: Prompts 43, 31, and/or 6 set in season 4b maybe with felicity and dig? :)_

_Anonymous asked: Can you write a fic with Felicity using the song can't go back by Rosi Golan?? PLEASE!!!!!_

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“I feel like I can’t breathe.” Felicity mumbled, wrapping her blanket tighter around herself. 

“Felicity, turn off the news.” Diggle sighed, reaching for the remote. “This isn’t doing anyone any good.”

Felicity gripped it tighter and angled it out of his grasp, her eyes still trained on the television screen. “No survivors, Dig. I killed them all.”

Diggle patted her legs where they rested in his lap. “You didn’t. You really didn’t. Darhk did this. You did the best that you could to  _save_ lives. Felicity, you did the  _only_ thing that you could.”

“I made a decision to kill tens of thousands of people.”

“To save millions.”

“What made me think that it was my choice,” Her eyes flickered to John, tears escaping under her glasses. “Who lives and who dies?”

Diggle sighed, “You didn’t choose to kill people, Felicity. Darhk made that choice. You chose to save as many lives as possible.”

“I traded the lives in Monument Point for the ones in Havenrock.  _I_  did. Nothing will make that okay, John.”  She stared back at the screen, displaying an image of a dark haired woman in her early thirties. Felicity mentally tried to log her name and face to her memory. “Karen Finn, 34. Her two kids were away at summer camp. I took their mother from them. Their home. Their lives.”

“Felicity,” John let out a long breath, “you need to get some sleep. You’ve been running on coffee for way too long. Rest.”

“I haven’t slept in ages. Every time I close my eyes I see their faces. Jeremy Thompson, 19. He was just accepted into Coast City University, but now, because of me, he doesn’t get to live to go to college. Madison Kennedy, 28. She was a school teacher who devoted her extra time to running a local animal shelter and clinic. Rick Ford, 32. He was Madison’s business partner.” Felicity leveled Diggle with a look, “Rick fell in love with Madison, and they were going to get married this summer.”

Diggle closed his eyes. “Stop. Felicity, stop.”

“Maria Gomez, 63. She was in Havenrock to visit her daughter who she hadn’t seen in over twenty years. Their reunion was cut short.”

“Stop, Felicity!” Diggle’s tone made her mouth snap shut. He stared at her for a long moment. “Who are you helping by torturing yourself like this?”

Felicity raised a shoulder, staring at his chest, unable to meet his gaze. “Maybe I’m helping myself.” she whispered, “Maybe I can atone for this if I force myself to face it.”

“Felicity…”

“Don’t tell me that I shouldn’t blame myself for this, John. I deserve to pay for it.”

“Some things need to be left alone, Felicity. You can’t go back and change what happened.”

Felicity blinked, “How am I going to make it better if I can’t go back?”

Diggle shook his head, “By stopping Darhk. Those people died because he wants to destroy the world. You make it better by preventing it from ever happening again, Felicity.”

Felicity nodded, biting her lip. She brought a shaking hand to her chest, “I feel it, you know?” She whispered, “It’s just this… _weight_ …right  _here”_ her fingers dug at her chest like she was trying to rip something out of it. Diggle grabbed her hand to stop her nails as they scratched against her skin.

“I feel it in my chest. It’s just always there. Will it always be there, John?” she began talking faster, her voice rising and growing panicked, “I can’t handle this,” Her voice broke, tears falling down her face, “This  _thing_ ,” she screamed, ripping her hands out of his. Felicity stood up, and John followed, watching her closely as she paced in front of the television, her breath becoming frantic. “It feels like I can’t breathe whenever I think about it, but I can’t stop thinking about it! How am I supposed to make it stop? How am I supposed to make it okay? I need to take it back, Dig! All those lives…oh my god, all those people.”

John reached for her, hauling her forward until she was pressed to his chest. He gripped her tightly until the sobs racking her body began to slow, “It hurts.” She mumbled, her arms limp at her sides. John ran his hands over her head, holding her body weight up more than she was. He soothed her as she slowly quieted, feeling her heartbeat calm as she inhaled and exhaled, “it hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” falling from her lips, unnoticed by her, until she finally fell asleep just like that.

When she woke up, she was instantly aware of a sharp pain in her lower back and she groaned. She was on her couch, which explained the aches in her body. The sun was just setting, and since it was dark when she fell asleep, she was disoriented and wondered how long she had been sleeping.

Lifting her head and feeling the pain in her neck as well, Felicity suddenly noticed that her head was in John’s lap, resting on a pillow over his legs. He’d stayed all night? Glancing up at his face, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Oliver’s sleeping form sat on the couch, his head tilted back and his hand on her waist. As she sat up, he startled awake. “You okay?” He asked before his eyes had focused on her.

Felicity stood up and stretched, making her way to the kitchen. Coffee was desperately needed. “When did you get in here?”

“Early this morning. John stayed the night with you, but he had to go pick up Lyla and JJ. I’ve been here all day,” he said cautiously, watching her like he was afraid she was about to snap. She felt the same way.

“He asked you to come babysit me?”

Oliver stood up, following her into the kitchen, “He’s very worried about you,” he mumbled, frowning into the cup of coffee that she set in front of him. “Felicity…”

“Don’t, Oliver…please.” She sighed, closing her eyes.

“I want to help,” He said, a shade of hopelessness in his voice.

Felicity shrugged, glancing away and blinking back tears as the weight in her chest grew heavier. Sleep had provided a temporary reprieve, but as she woke up more, she felt it creeping back into her. The pain. The guilt. “There’s nothing you can do,” she answered, sounding sad about it even to her own ears. “Some things need to be left alone.”

“Not this.” Oliver shook his head. “Not you.”


	27. "I'm Too Sober for This"

_Anonymous asked: Olicity #4 i'm too sober for this. Extra challenge: Oliver walking in on Felicity doing something weird:p Your amazing!_

* * *

 

“I’m too sober for this,” Felicity said, setting her glass of wine on the counter and turning towards the apartment, “Okay. If I were a diamond ring, where would I be?”

She started in the kitchen, opening every drawer and cupboard door her hands touched, rummaging through them until she’d checked every nook and cranny in the kitchen. She sighed, picking up her wine and taking it into the living room.

She’d only been living there for two weeks, and tonight was her one and only chance to figure out where he was hiding it. William was with Samantha and Oliver was with Dig, getting a drink and having their heart-to-heart, brotherly reunion thing. Every day that passed that Oliver didn’t mention marriage or that damn ring made her more and more anxious. 

She finally got off Lian Yu. Came home. Went on one date with Oliver. Got back together with Oliver. Moved into Oliver’s apartment. And then nothing.

She frowned at the cold looking area. No pictures. No cozy favorite blanket on the couch. Even the decorations looked like they came with the place, staged like a show room. She shook her head and finished her wine. Redecorating was next on her list. But first, she had to know where Oliver was hiding that ring.  _Her_  ring.

She checked the glass bowls, behind the paintings on the walls, under the carpets and cushions, in the fireplace, anything that had the option of being opened, Felicity opened it. “Damn you, Oliver.” Felicity hissed to herself, leaning onto her knees where she’d been exploring the underside of his stupid couch. “Bedroom,” She said, getting up and heading in there.

“Okay, okay,” She whispered to herself, glancing at the clock. She knew she didn’t have much more time. Oliver was uneasy about leaving her; something that she found adorable at the moment, but she hoped he’d get used to soon. She flung open the top drawer of his dresser, running her fingers over his socks and underwear, feeling for that tiny velvet box. 

She huffed, “Of course it’s not in the underwear drawer. He’d never be that predictable.”

She moved on to the other drawers, then the nightstands. She checked under the bed and saw a small wooden box. “Gotchya,” she mumbled, smiling. It was the only thing under the bed. Opening it up, she was greeted with photos of them. From their vacation, from their engagement party, even some from before they were together. The rest of the box was full of items from their trip; collected plane tickets, restaurant prints, souvenirs, concert tickets…something from every place they’d been. A copy of their wedding invitation sat at the bottom. “But no ring.” She groaned, tossing everything back into the box.

She stood up, glancing around the room. She paced for another moment, and then reached for the framed photo of Oliver and Thea on his wall. It was the only picture he had in the apartment. Well, the only one that he had on the wall. She turned it over and sighed. Nothing. “Where the hell are you?” She whined.

“We’ll find her.” 

Felicity yelped, the picture falling from her hands. Oliver stepped into the room, his arm flying out to catch it. He put the frame back on the wall. “Thea’s going to come home,” he nodded, reassuring himself. “If Black Siren has her, I’ll get her back.”

Felicity hesitated, realizing that he thought she was talking to Thea in the picture. “I know,” she said, biting her lip.

“What happened in here?” he asked, glancing at the bedroom that she’d torn apart. 

“Uh…I lost…my glasses. Couldn’t find them anywhere.”

Oliver smirked. He reached towards her and pulled the frames from her face. “How much wine have you had?” He teased, nodding to her wine glass on the dresser. “I think it’d at least take a bottle to make you forget that you’re wearing your glasses. And to talk to a picture of my sister.”

“Oh,” She said, rolling her eyes and laughing. She took her glasses and put them back on her face. “Wow. Man…am I…” She rolled her eyes again, “Silly me. Anyway, are you hungry? Did you and John get dinner? You weren’t gone very long.”

“No, we just had a beer and caught up. He wanted to get home to Lyla and JJ as much as I wanted to get home to you.”

“Okay,” She smiled, “Well, do you want to pick something up?”

Oliver shrugged, “Nah, I’ll cook. It’s our first night alone since you came home. We should celebrate. As long as you didn’t drink  _all_ of the wine.”

Felicity laughed, “No, I didn’t.”

“Good.” he kissed her cheek, “Come on, you deserve a home cooked meal.”

She groaned, taking his hand as he lead her towards the kitchen. “God, I’ve missed your cooking.”

Oliver chuckled, pulling her down the hallway, grabbing her wine glass on his way out. He gestured to one of the kitchen stools and put her glass in front of her. She watched him move, making his way around the kitchen as he filled her glass, then got himself one. 

Then he began cooking. She  _loved_ watching him cook. “You know…it’s a real tragedy; the amount of time I’ve spent watching you cook, and I still can’t manage to make a grilled cheese without burning it.”

Oliver threw her a look. “Felicity, even when I tried to teach you, somehow everything you made just tasted like salt.” 

She frowned and he laughed. “I always overestimate how much salt is  _too_ much salt.”

“Don’t worry, babe.” He gave her a crooked smile, “I’ll do the cooking. Besides, I’ve actually grown to like your burnt grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Well, if you’re going to be cooking all the time, I guess I should get used to dish duty for the rest of our lives.” She teased. She actually enjoyed doing dishes, and he knew that.

He winked at her, pulling out the cutting board. “Only until the kids are old enough that we can make them do it.”

Felicity exhaled, surprised by the casual way he mentioned children, but she liked it. Hiding her smile behind her wine glass, she nodded. “Well…William  _would_ make a pretty great big brother.” Oliver smiled. “Someday,” She continued with a sigh. “Once we find a house…get William into a good school here…have a  _wedding_ , maybe.” Oliver stopped cutting vegetables to look at her. “And…I mean, who knows how long all of that could take.” She finished with a nervous laugh, taking another sip of wine.

Oliver bit his lip, hiding a smile as he returned to his cutting. Felicity sighed, taking her glass and standing up. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To start a fire.” She grumbled back.

Felicity knelt in front of the fireplace, setting a couple of logs on top of the newspaper that was already in there. She lit a match and started it. Then she sat, holding her wine between her hands and watching the flames.

Oliver draped a blanket over her shoulders before sighing and sitting down beside her. “I think you’ve been looking for this,” he said quietly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her ring. He held it out to her in his palm. She stared at it for a moment and then looked up at him. She waited. Oliver smiled, “I just wanted to give you some time to adjust. Coming home, getting back together, and moving into an apartment with me and my son is a lot to take in. I was just trying not to rush you.”

Felicity kept her face neutral as she watched him. She believed him instantly. She assumed as much, even if she’d had a few nightmares about him pawning it. She knew he still had it. “What if I like the rush?”

Oliver smirked, one corner of his mouth curving upward. “Then I guess this ring should go back where it belongs.” He toyed with it, holding it out for her, and she let him slip it on her finger. He leaned forward, kissing her fingers.

“Just so we’re being clear about this…will you marry me, Oliver Queen?”

Oliver glanced up at her, “There’s nothing I want more.” He whispered, leaning over to press his lips to hers.

Felicity set her glass on the floor, turning and climbing onto his lap. She listened to him sigh, his hands running up her legs, under the blanket, until they rested on her hips. She moved against him, “How long until dinner’s ready?” She asked quietly.

Felicity felt him smile against her lips. “Half an hour.”

She ran her nose over his, cupping his face between her hands and feeling the weight of her ring on her finger. It was a good weight. Anchoring. Grounding. Promising. “Plenty of time,” she mumbled, moving her hands down his chest.


	28. Exaggerated Injuries

_anonymous asked: can you write something fluffy where Oliver is exaggerating an injury because he likes Felicity giving him attention?_

* * *

 

“It’s just a twisted ankle.” Oliver said, leaning back on the couch to rest his head in Felicity’s lap. She bit her lip to keep from smiling, bringing the ice pack in her hand to his face. 

He flinched, lifting his leg and elevating it onto the pillows she’d stacked. He still wore his leathers, hiding out in the bunker as he waited for the rest of the team to get back. 

Felicity ran her hand over his jaw, holding the ice pack to his face. “And a bruised face. You’re supposed to be telling the world you’re not the Green Arrow tomorrow. Limping to the podium and these bruises aren’t really going to help your case.”

Oliver sighed, “Makeup should cover the bruises.” He looked up at her and she smiled down at him.

“How do you feel?” She asked, noticing the way his eyes fluttered shut when she brushed her fingers through his hair. He shrugged, keeping his eyes closed.

“Do you want me to take you home?” She asked gently, continuing to play with his hair.

The elevator doors opened, and Diggle and Dinah came into the bunker. Felicity lifted her hand to wave, and Oliver turned his head in her lap to look at them. Dinah chuckled, “That kick to the ankle didn’t look too pleasant, boss. How does it feel?”

John rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t seem to mind very much.” He teased, glancing at Felicity where she sat, one hand in Oliver’s hair, one pressing the ice pack to his temple.

Dig’s amusement fell from his face when he noticed the glare she was giving him. His brow furrowed, “What?”

Oliver shook his head, groaning as he stood up, “I should get changed. I told William we could watch the game tonight.” He said, hobbling to the back room.

Felicity stood up and marched over to her friend, smacking him on the arm. “Ow!” Dig complained, rubbing his arm and looking at her like she was crazy.

“Here.” Felicity threw the ice pack at him.

“What was that for?” John asked.

Felicity crossed her arms, “You know how he is!” She hissed.

Diggle stared at her, “Come on, Felicity. You’ve seen him get shot. The guy’s got a shark bite on his hip…he’s been tortured multiple times in his life. A bruised face is not going to kill him. He’s  _fine_.”

“I  _know_ that.”

John looked confused for a moment, then he turned to Dinah with a smile, “Oliver usually has to be unconscious for him to let anyone patch him up. He even insists on doing his own stitches if he can reach them.” He chuckled. “One time, he even injected himself…” he trailed off as Felicity glared at him.

Dinah grimaced, “Well, maybe he has sensitive ankles?”

Felicity sighed, “The one time he lets me take care of him, and you have to tease him about it?” She landed another hit to his arm.

“He was totally exaggerating it!” John defended himself. “He just liked that you were fussing over him, Felicity.” He raised his hands in surrender.

Felicity rolled her eyes at him. “I  _know_ that.” She sassed.

John hesitated, and Dinah burst out into laughter. “ _Oh_.” He said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I get it now.”

 


	29. Oliver's Idea of Peace

She fell asleep sometime during their fifth and final episode of Friends.

Oliver glanced down at her sleeping face, resting peacefully in his lap. He sighed, taking off her glasses and setting them on the coffee table. He couldn’t stop thinking about how perfectly their lives had come together. It felt amazing…to come home and have Felicity and William both there.

After making dinner together, which was more like Oliver and William trying to teach Felicity how to make bruschetta chicken and pasta, his son had helped his future wife with the dishes. And then he’d posted up at the dining room table right next to Oliver and done his homework while Oliver finished some paperwork. Now William was asleep in his bedroom, and Felicity was asleep with her head in his lap.

It was perfect.

It finally felt like they were taking steps to being a real family. The right steps.

Oliver stroked Felicity’s hair, brushing it away from her face. He muted the television, wondering if he should wake her up or just carry her upstairs. It really was a fifty-fifty with her. He knew from experience that if he carried her to bed, she’d wake up five minutes later and be confused. But he also knew that if he woke her up now, she’d groan and ask him carry her anyway. Either way, she’d be grumpy. He smiled to himself as he watched her, picturing her groggy little voice and how she’d offer a cute smile when she’d ask him “can you carry me?”, not bothering to open her eyes because she knew he’d say yes.

She’d pulled that one nearly every night in Ivy Town.

Oliver chuckled to himself, looking out of the giant windows at the city. He didn’t mind that his problems at the moment consisted of whether or not to wake Felicity up. He knew that the team was probably out hitting the streets, but he still didn’t mind. He’d put his relationship with Felicity on the back burner for five months so that he could focus on William. And now that he had the time for both, now that it didn’t have to be one or the other, he wished he would’ve known sooner that he could have both. The sense of peace that he felt reminded him of Ivy Town. Yet it was somehow better.

Their life was perfect back then, but they were away from everyone they loved. They didn’t have any problems because it had just been the two of them. And damn, when it was just the two of them…the world was perfect. He knew now that it couldn’t always be that way. Life would always change. Their worlds would constantly be shifting. And that scared both of them. But he understood that when it happened, all he had to do was hold Felicity a little tighter on those nights. Promise her that the life they were building was worth whatever challenges they faced. Whatever curveball life wanted to throw, Oliver was confident that he and Felicity would survive it.

This was real.

The ring on her finger was real.

His son’s growing appreciation for the wonder that was Felicity Smoak was real. It was all working. “Oliver,”

“Yeah, hon?” He pulled his eyes away from the city view to look back down at her. Her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. “Felicity?” He asked.

“Oh, Oliver.”

He hesitated, watching her for another long moment. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, and she released a soft moan. Oliver chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Felicity, wake up.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek, running his mouth to her ear and back, planting light kisses along the way.

She moaned again; a quiet, satisfied, adorable little sound.

He rested his lips against the corner of her mouth. “Fel-i-ci-ty.”

She finally stirred, her hand wandering up to cup his cheek. “I was just dreaming about you,” she offered, her voice hoarse.

“I know.” He smirked, watching as she fought herself to open her eyes, but the most response he got was a raised eyebrow. “What time is it?” Oliver smiled down at her, waiting for those gorgeous eyes to open.

When they finally did, he kissed her, “almost midnight.” He answered against her lips.

“And you’re waking me up so I can get home before I turn into a pumpkin?”

Oliver chuckled. “First of all, this is your home.” He kissed her again and felt her smile. “And second of all, I woke you up because you were moaning my name.”

Felicity’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. “I was?”

“You were.”

“Hm.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

She was pretending she didn’t know what he was getting at, and Oliver shook his head at her, not letting her off the hook. He would definitely be getting the details of that dream out of her, one way or another. She often forgot that he knew her ticklish spots, and how he could get her to admit to anything when he tickled her. “Are you going to tell me what you were dreaming about?” He asked.

Felicity smirked. “Carry me to bed and I can show you.”


	30. Assholes Don't Stand a Chance Against the Queen Boys

anonymous  asked: Can you please write a fic of Oliver kicking some butt to defend Felicity's honor?

* * *

 

“It’s okay, Felicity.” 

Oliver heard William’s voice as he stepped into the apartment. He closed the door behind him, narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend where she sat on the couch. He took in his sons words of comfort as he noticed her tears, and he was moving.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, crossing the room quickly and kneeling in front of her. “Felicity, what is it? Are you okay?” He looked to her face first, checking her for blood or bruises or anything that was causing her pain.

“I’m fine,” she squeaked, her voice thick with tears.

He glanced down at her hands, noticing the papers she was gripping. He frowned, putting one hand on her face and used the other to take the papers out of her hand. He wondered if she and Curtis had received some bad news on their business endeavors. But he saw his son’s name at the top of the page and a big red “60” scribbled over it.

Oliver looked up at her, tears still spilling as William rubbed her shoulder. His son shook his head at him, but Oliver was at a loss for words. He cleared his throat, “Felicity…William did his best…and that’s okay.” He got out the words more like a question, confused as to why she was crying over a seventh grader’s test score, even if they had worked so hard studying. It wasn’t worth tears, definitely not hers.

“Oliver.” William said, shooting him a look of caution and shaking his head again.

Felicity’s eyes lifted to look at him, full of tears that Oliver couldn’t understand. “ _Okay_?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “William  _did_ do his best. We went over everything that his stupid teacher put on this test! Look at this!” She pulled the paper from his hand and waved it in front of him, “That prick took ten points off of this question because William used parentheses instead of a multiplication symbol! Ten points!  _Fifteen_ points off because he misspelled ‘integers’! It’s a  _math_ test! His grading is absolutely ridiculous and unfair!”

Oliver frowned as he turned through the pages of the test, noticing that William hadn’t gotten full credit for even one question, despite the fact that all of the final answers were right. He just wasn’t sure why Felicity was this upset about it.

“You’re right,” he said, looking up at her, “I’ll stop by the school and talk to the teacher tomorrow.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at him, huffing.

He laughed once, lifting his hands in surrender, “Okay, I’ll talk to the principal? Would that be better?”

“I  _tried_ that! I went in and spoke to Mr. Colby when I picked William up from school. It got us nowhere…and he’s a  _prick_!” She cried, new tears springing to her eyes. 

Oliver looked to William for help, who only sighed and patted Felicity’s shoulder. “William,” Oliver said, “what do you think, buddy?”

William shrugged, “I think I’m going to go to school tomorrow and punch Mr. Colby. Right in the nose.”

Oliver grumbled, “I said that about eighth graders, not your teachers.”

“He made Felicity cry!”

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed, putting his hands on her knees. “We’ll get it sorted out. I’m sure you can’t be the only one to complain about Mr. Colby’s grading. We’ll work it out.”

“Yeah,” she sniffled, “Okay.”

Oliver smiled, rubbing his thumb along her cheek and wiping away her tears. He stood up, ruffling William’s hair before leaning down to kiss his girlfriend’s forehead. “All right, what do we want for dinner?” He asked, turning his attention to the kitchen and heading for the fridge.

“Am I pretentious know it all?”

Oliver’s brow furrowed and he turned back around to look at Felicity. “ _What_?” He asked.

She sighed, throwing her hands up. “That’s not a  _no_!”

He cocked his head to the side, “Of course you’re not, Felicity. Why are you asking me that?”

William stood up from the couch. “That’s what Mr. Colby called her. He said that just because she owned Palmer Tech doesn’t mean she’s better than everyone else, so she should stop acting like it. Then he said that she didn’t even deserve the company, and that women should stop trying to do a man’s job. He also said that conceited, arrogant blondes like her needed to learn to get over themselves. And…some other things that I don’t want to repeat.”

Oliver looked at Felicity. Her bottom lip was trembling as William recapped his teacher’s derogatory assessment of her. 

He let out a deep, annoyed breath, heading back to Felicity. He bent over and pressed his lips to her hair, “Felicity Smoak,” he murmured, “You are caring and selfless and  _wonderful_. You’re beautiful…inside and out.” He looked down at her, “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She sniffled again, nodding and wiping at her eyes. “He was just so  _mean_.”

Oliver bit his lip, fighting with his own anger. He knew that exploding would only upset her even more. “I’ll be back in half an hour. I love you.” He said, kissing her lips quickly.

He headed for the door, glad that he hadn’t had a chance to take off his coat or shoes yet. William followed behind, “Are you gonna get Mr. Colby fired?” He asked, excitement in his voice.

“Tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Yes!” William shouted, lifting his fist in the air, “Go for the nose!” He called as Oliver closed the door.


	31. Pretzel Sandwiches and Scary Movies

“Pretzel sandwich time!”

William hollered from his spot at the window, and Felicity threw her hands in the air, joining in on the excitement. “Is his car gone?” She asked.

William nodded, “Are you sure Oliver won’t be mad at you for this?”

Felicity waved him off, “Last time he had to go into work late, he told me that pizza was not a snack. Well,  _this_ is a snack.”

William rounded the corner, standing beside her in the kitchen. “What do we do?”

“It’s easy. Take a pretzel, put it on the pan. Take a piece of candy, Reese’s or Rollo’s are my professional suggestion, then another pretzel on top. Put ‘em in the oven until they’re nice and melty and warm. Pretzel sandwich. Amazing snack.”

A slow smile spread across his face, “let’s do this.”

Felicity laughed, laying out the pretzels onto the sheet pan. “It’s just a good thing Raisa was already at the grocery store when Oliver said he had to go into the office.”

“Yeah…do you think she believed that Oliver forgot to buy Halloween candy?”

Felicity scoffed, “it was true! I just didn’t tell her that it’s for us and not the kids.” She winked.

A knock at the door made them both freeze, their eyes meeting. “I’ll get it,” Felicity said, “you finish the sandwiches.”

William nodded, attentively unwrapping a mini Reese’s cup as she headed for the door. 

When she opened it, an agitated Rene maneuvered around her, coming into the apartment without an invitation. “Where’s Hoss?” He asked.

Felicity raised her eyebrows, “hello to you, too.” She grumbled, shutting the door. “He’s not here,” she said, raising her arms. “He had to go into work.”

“I need to talk to him. Mind if I wait?”

Felicity frowned, “Well, William’s here. Should I call Raisa? Do you need my help with anything?”

“No,” Rene sighed, “I just gotta talk to Oliver.”

Felicity made a face, “Okay…well…”

William stuck his out, nodding to Rene, “you want a sandwich?”

Rene chuckled, “that’s what I’m talking about. Stress eating is the best eating.”

He followed William into the kitchen, leaving Felicity to mumble after them, “Party of three now, I guess.”

“What the hell is that?” Rene asked, pointing to the pretzels as William pulled them out of the oven.

Felicity rolled her eyes. 

Taking two off the pan, she shoved one into Rene’s mouth and then ate one herself. “Oh, perfect.” She sighed, her eyes rolling as the warm chocolate and caramel melted in her mouth. “Nicely done, William.”

He smiled at her as he ate, offering his hand for a high five.

“Damn,” Rene nodded, “I mean…dang. Those are bomb.”

“Felicity?”

They all glanced at the door. “ _Curtis_?” Felicity asked. 

He came into the kitchen, smiling at them and holding a handful of papers. “What are you doing here?”

He laughed, “We said eight, didn’t we? To work out a name for the company? Or a concept…anything really.”

“Right.” Felicity pressed her fist to her forehead. “I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Curtis. Oliver had to work, so William and I were going to watch a movie.”

“Oh,” Curtis’ face lit up, “What movie? Something scary?”

Felicity made a face, glancing at William, “I don’t think so…”

“I’ll be fine, Felicity.” William said, popping another pretzel sandwich into his mouth. “I love scary movies.”

“Honey, I don’t know, your dad probably wouldn’t like it very much if I give us both nightmares for the next month.”

Rene grabbed a handful of the candies and turned for the couch, kicking his shoes off. “I vote The Sixth Sense!”

“Ugh, no way!” Curtis argued, following along. “It’s Halloween night. We need a classic slasher.”

Felicity looked at William, “Hocus Pocus is not off the table,” she said, pointing at him.

William laughed and rolled his eyes, standing up to join Curtis and Rene. “I say Chainsaw Massacre. Or Saw.”

Felicity groaned, remembering how she hadn’t been able to finish either of those movies.

As the boys picked a movie, Felicity changed into a pair of pj pants and one of Oliver’s coziest sweatshirts. It helped that he’d been wearing it the night before. His smell was comforting. “Felicity! Come on!” William yelled.

She looked down the hall to see a popcorn fight breaking out between Rene and William. She smiled, stealing Oliver’s socks from the top drawer on her way to the living room.

She plopped down on the couch, pulling the socks over her cold toes. Then she grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself. She took a deep breath. “Okay. Ready.”

She glanced at the boys, and they were all staring at her. 

Rene laughed, “I didn’t know you were such a wuss, blondie.”

She frowned. “I am not a wuss.”

Curtis made himself comfortable in the recliner chair, throwing a piece of popcorn at Rene where he sat on the floor. He tossed one back.

William nudged her, “Hocus Pocus is not off the table.” He teased.

Felicity huffed, glancing at the television. “The Shining?” She groaned, watching the sequence play on the screen, courtesy of Netflix. She already felt on edge as Rene turned the volume up, and the creepy music filled the apartment.

When they laughed, she straightened her back, “I mean…The Shining…cool. Totally awesome movie. And not scary at all.”

William got up to turn off the lights, handing Felicity the plate of pretzel sandwiches on his way back to the couch. “Ready?”

Felicity snorted, “Yeah…totally. No biggie.”

She spent the majority of the movie hiding behind her blanket, yelling profanities at the screen whenever something scared her and then apologizing to William immediately after, explaining that she had no control over the curses.

The boys were more entertained by her than by the movie, constantly looking for her reactions and breaking out into a fit of giggles when she whined or screamed.

None of them heard Oliver come in, and he strategically waited until an intense moment in the movie to make his presence known. “No,” Felicity whispered at the television. “You leave her alone, Jack. You stop that right now.”

Oliver tapped her on the shoulder, “Hi.”

Felicity jumped in the air, flinging popcorn as she screamed.

Even that one got the boys, and they were screaming too, much to Oliver’s amusement.

Oliver raised his hands in surrender, still laughing at them. 

William groaned. Curtis caught his breath. Rene threw popcorn at him.

Felicity scrambled over the back of the couch, throwing herself into his open arms. Oliver chuckled, accepting her weight and picking her up. He sighed as the warmth of her blanket surrounded them, kissing her on the temple.

Oliver sat down next to William, setting Felicity on the other side of him and wrapping his arm around her. She hid her face in his chest, pulling her blanket up to her face. “Hey buddy,” he said, ruffling William’s hair. “You okay with this movie?”

“That’s a question for Felicity.”

“I feel like I don’t have to ask on that one…” he laughed, gesturing to her, hiding under his arm and watching the movie through her fingers.

William smiled, “I’m fine. I’ve seen this movie twice already.”

“Oh, shit! Put that ax  _down_! What are you doing!?” Felicity cried, her voice an octave higher.

Oliver rubbed her shoulder. “Rene, Curtis…nice to have you over, which one of your asses am I kicking for letting my son and my girlfriend watch this movie?”

Rene immediately raised his hand, not taking his eyes off the screen. “That’d be me, hoss.”

Felicity squealed as Jack busted down the door, and Wendy’s screams filled the apartment. Oliver tightened his arm around Felicity, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Leave. Her.  _Alone_!” She cried, pulling the blanket up to cover her face.

“Oh my god,” Felicity whined, “I’m going to have so many nightmares. Frack you, Jack!” She offered her middle finger to the television.

Oliver sighed, leaning back into the couch and kissing her forehead, knowing how she had a tendency to kick when she was having a nightmare. “Can’t wait.”


	32. William's Baseball Game

_Shoes._

Felicity hopped from one foot to the other, trying to get her socks on while she scanned the room for her sneakers. “You ready, hon?”

She glanced up at Oliver, standing in the doorway. “Yeah, I just need to find my shoes and then we can go.”

Oliver nodded once, opening the closet door and pulling out her favorite pair. “Here.”

She let out a breath, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Felicity followed him through the apartment, putting her shoes on as he turned the lights off and grabbed the car keys. Then he kissed her forehead before leading her silently out of the apartment.

She climbed into the car and buckled, immediately bringing her fingers to her mouth to chew on her nails. Oliver glanced over at her and sighed. “Why do you look so nervous?”

She scoffed, “I’m not nervous,  _you’re_ nervous.” He leveled her with a look and she bit her lip. “Fine, I’m nervous,” she admitted with a sigh, “how are you not!?”

Oliver chuckled at the gentle jab she’d landed on his arm. “It’s just a baseball game.”

“It’s  _William’s_  baseball game.”

“He told me this morning that he’s excited you’re coming.”

“Really? Did he really, he really said that?”

Oliver lifted her hand with a small laugh, bringing her fingers to his mouth. “Yes. He really said it. Why are you nervous?” He asked again.

“I don’t know.” She breathed, “It’s you and me…William…baseball…you know?” She glanced up at him and he took his eyes off the road to look at her. His eyes softened, and her heart melted as it always did. 

Thanks to Curtis, she often wondered what he was thinking when he looked at her like that. That look that wouldn’t change. And she hoped it never would. “What?” She asked as he fought a smile.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, his mouth pulling upward. He looked back at the road. “That just…doesn’t sound like a bad Friday night at all.”

Felicity couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious. “No, it doesn’t.”

As they pulled up to the field, Felicity spotted William warming up. He was throwing a ball back and forth with a teammate, one she recognized from the handful of times that she’d picked William up from school. 

She got out of the car and took Oliver’s hand, dragging him towards the fence. 

When he noticed them, William jogged over to where they stood. “Hey, buddy.” Oliver said, reaching over the fence to playfully tap the bill of his hat. “You ready?”

William shrugged, “Jack said they played Central City last year and won ten-nothing. We’re undefeated, so I don’t think anyone’s too worried about it.”

Felicity bit her lip to keep from smiling, and Oliver laughed. “all right, well have fun out there, okay?”

William nodded, “I will.”

As William jogged away, Oliver wrapped his arm around her. “He’s cocky.” Oliver said, smirking.

Felicity bumped her hip against his, “Wonder where he gets that from.”

Oliver laughed, kissing the top of her head as the teams got ready to play. “I don’t even know what position he plays.” Felicity mumbled.

Oliver pointed to the outfield, where William was stretching his arms. “left field.”

“Aww, this is going to be so fun. You can teach me all about baseball.”

“I’ve tried that before.” Oliver frowned.

Felicity squeezed his side, “I wasn’t listening. I didn’t care to learn about the stats of the Blue Jays.”

“But you care about the stats of Star City Middle School?”

“Well…yeah. At least I know a player on  _this_ team.” She answered with a shrug.

Felicity watched as Central City’s first batter hit the ball right towards William, and he ran backwards, looking up at the incoming ball. She squeaked, her hands flying to her mouth. William lifted his glove and the ball fell right into it, as if it was effortless. She jumped up and down, “Oh! Yay!” She yelled, knowing that it must have been harder than it looked. “Yay, go William!”

Oliver’s laughter quieted her excitement. “Don’t tease me,” she chided. 

He shook his head, “No teasing here.”

“You’re laughing at me.” She said, settling down and tucking herself back under his arm. She rested her arms against the fence, her hands folded in front of her mouth.

Oliver kissed her temple, “Nicely done!” He yelled, “Good job, William!” Felicity glanced up at him, giggling. “I’m not laughing at you,” he said, “I’m just happy.” 

William held the ball up, looking right at Oliver and Felicity, the biggest smile on his face. “Oh.” Felicity sighed, her heart feeling whole. She gave him a thumbs up, “Look at him.”

He was, and Felicity liked watching Oliver’s face as much as she liked watching William play. His expression was content. Proud. “He looks happier than I’ve seen him…” Oliver mumbled, and Felicity hugged him a little tighter.

By the end of the game, William’s prediction was proven right. Star City won eight to three, including an impressive home-run by their favorite player. “He’s so  _good_.” Felicity gushed as they waited for him. 

Oliver nodded, “I know.”

“We should take him and his friend out for ice cream. You know, he mentioned the other night that he’s starting to feel like he fits in here and maybe before we drop Jack off, we could ask if they want to go to Big Belly for sundaes? Or milkshakes? Oh, I want a milkshake.”

Oliver smiled down at her, “I love you,” he mumbled, stepping closer and pulling her against him. He wound his arms around her waist, leaning down to kiss her.

Felicity smiled against his lips as he pulled away, “I love you, too.”

“Hey dad,” William called, coming up behind them, “can Jack sleep over? I told him about the new Call of Duty you got me, and he wants to play it.”

Oliver hesitated, glancing down at Felicity. She opened her mouth, then closed it, lifting her shoulders. 

Oliver cleared his throat, “Uh, sure. Just let me call Jack’s mom to make sure it’s okay.”

William nodded, “Thanks!” He yelled, running back towards his dugout.

Felicity spun around, “Was that…has he ever…did he just call you  _dad_?”

Oliver nodded, “That was a first.”

“Oh, Oliver.” Felicity wrapped her arms around him, nestling her head on his chest. She wasn’t sure why it made  _her_ so emotional, but she quickly wiped away a tear before Oliver could see it. She loved that Oliver and William were finally connecting, and she loved that she got to be involved. William was adjusting, and she was glad to be part of it. To pick him up from school and have movie nights with him and go to his baseball games. She happily did all of it.

“Felicity, are you okay?” William’s voice asked. 

She pulled away from Oliver, looking behind her to see William and Jack waiting, duffel bags and baseball gloves in hand. “Yeah,” she smiled at them, “Of course. William, you were  _awesome_ out there! And you too, Jack. I’m so glad I got to watch.”

William smiled at her. “Thanks, Felicity. I’m really happy you could come.” He answered as they walked to the car. “Dad, did you see my grounder in the fifth inning? Coach says I’m a power hitter, so I figured they wouldn’t be expecting it.”

Oliver nodded, “It was a good play. You had an awesome game, William, I’m really proud of you.” He said, smiling down at his son. “And you too, Jack.” He added.

The boys laughed. “Thanks, dad. Maybe we can go to the park tomorrow and you can show Jack that curve-ball we were working on?”

“Anytime.” Oliver said, looking over at Felicity as he started the car.

She smiled, and he reached his hand over, lacing his fingers through hers. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Friday night, or a Saturday afternoon.

“So,” Felicity said, turning around to look at the boys. “Ice cream?”


	33. Scrabble Can Be Sexy

_Anonymous: CAN YOU WRITE A FIC OF OLICITY PLAYING SCRABBLE WHILE ROY AND DIGGLE WATCH THINGS GET SUPER COMPETITIVE BETWEEN THE TWO AND START TAKING BETS YET OLIVER IS KINDA TURNED ON BY HOW GOOD FELICITY IS IM SORRY IM YELLING IM JUST SO EXCITED. I take no credit for this fic idea I saw it whilst scrolling and thought of you right away_

* * *

 

“Oliver, that’s not fair.”

“Coming from the girl who just played the word…‘nyxem?’”

“I already told you!” Felicity shouted, “It’s a software virus!”

Oliver leaned back, tapping his fingers against the coffee table. “I’m still not sure if I believe that it’s a real word. It seems like you just wanted to play that ‘X’.”

She glared at him from her seat on the floor in the loft, across from her boyfriend with scrabble splayed on the table in front of them, “So what’s a danuvia then? Because I could say the same thing about the 'V’.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “It’s a delayed blowback firearm.”

“Are you making that up?” She asked, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes at him.

Oliver watched the way she tried to intimidate him, and he couldn’t help but lean forward too, putting his face inches from her. “Diggle?” He asked, not looking away from Felicity’s eyes.

She heard Diggle sigh from behind her, “It’s a real gun, Felicity.”

Felicity groaned, “I didn’t know this was two against one scrabble.”

Dig laughed, “It’s not. I’m going home. You two are getting way too competitive for a game of scrabble.” He waved on his way out, but neither Oliver nor Felicity were backing down.

Oliver still hadn’t taken his eyes away from Felicity. With her hair pulled back and her arms crossed; her eyes focused on her letter pieces…it was weirdly sexy. He knew that she was smarter than him, but he was winning, and it was bringing out her competitive side. Oliver shook his head slightly, “You’re really worked up over this.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped, “I am not! You’re the one who wanted to play in the first place!” Oliver just laughed as he placed more pieces on the board while Felicity continued to glare. He leaned back against the couch and smiled while she read it. Her eyes shifted up to him, “Climax?”

He nodded slowly, and she glanced away, adding his points to his score. He watched her as she placed the pencil on the table and squeezed her hands together. “Felicity.” He said quietly, and she glanced up at him.

“You win, Oliver.” she said slowly. And then she reached her hands out to push the board off of the table. His eyes darkened as she raised an eyebrow, both of them listening to the sound of the wooden pieces hitting the floor. He reached for her at the same moment that she leaned forward, and he lifted her quickly before setting her back on the coffee table.

Felicity giggled as he climbed over her, and he smirked down at her, loving the sound of her laughter. “I think next time we should try strip scrabble.” He mumbled, kissing her cheek.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her lips outside of his ear, “I think I’d beat you at that one.”

“Really?” He asked, smiling into her neck.

She nodded, her lips skimming over his ear, making his need for her grow. “I don’t think you’d be on your game if my clothes were off.” She finished sultrily as her fingers tied into his hair.

Oliver hesitated while a shiver ran down his back; picturing her naked. “Well-” He started in his deepest, just for the bedroom voice.

 And then the door flew open and Thea barged in. Oliver’s head snapped up to look at his sister and Felicity yelped, adjusting her shirt that had ridden up. Thea froze with one hand still on the doorknob. “I’m going to Dig’s.” She said, her eyes wide. She immediately walked back out and shut the door behind her.

Oliver glanced down at Felicity, his eyes bewildered. Felicity laughed at his deer in headlights expression, wiping her lipstick from his cheek, “I think we’ve scarred your sister. That’s the third time she’s walked in on us.”

Oliver’s expression softened and he laughed too, “ _This_  week. You’re forgetting that time I made you scream so loud that she thought-”

“Oliver!” Felicity clamped her hand over his mouth, “I’m still trying to block that from my memory.”


	34. Olicity's Honeymoon

Olicity's honeymoon

* * *

 

“You need more sunscreen.”

She shrugged, turning to look at her shoulder from where she laid on her stomach. She was getting a little red. “Do you mind?” she asked, picking up the bottle and already knowing the answer. He sat up, taking it from her hands and squeezing some of it into his palm.

Felicity pulled her hair over her shoulder and put her head down, closing her eyes and enjoying the slow and gentle way he worked his fingers over her back, neck and arms. She knew he wasn’t even trying to turn her on, just being an overly protective husband as he made sure that every inch of her skin was covered. But then he moved on to her legs, giving her backside a tender squeeze as he slid his fingers over her skin.

She giggled, moving her arm so she could look up at him. Oliver smiled back, leaning over to kiss her nose before he dropped back down onto the blanket beside her. She watched him for a moment, sprawled out on his back, angling his face up at the sun and closing his eyes. 

“It’s not fair that you can get so tan, and I have to put on six layers of sunblock and I still come home looking like a lobster.” 

His mouth twitched with a smile, “yeah, aloe is not nearly as sexy to put you when every time I touch you, you say ‘ow.’”

She rolled her eyes, “you’d think the burns would turn into a tan. But nope. Just back to pasty… and then it starts all over again with the next one.”

He raised his eyebrows, keeping his eyes closed as he spoke, “I told you we could try somewhere cold.”

She scrunched her nose, “Freezing to death in a blizzard doesn’t sound very fun or romantic to me.”

“I was thinking more like a cozy resort on a mountain in Norway. I could teach you how to ski during the day and then we could curl up in front of fire at night.”

Felicity hit his arm, “well why didn’t you say that before!?”

He huffed, “because I said ‘Felicity, I think we should take a honeymoon,’ and you said ‘Boo yeah! I’m packing my bags, see ya in Bermuda, baby!’” 

Felicity laid back down on the blanket, folding her arms to use as a pillow and looking at Oliver’s profile. Being in the sunlight in all of his muscled, beautiful glory looked so good on him. 

He seemed completely at peace, teasing her lightheartedly, happy. And he was right about marriage, it felt so good to know that he was her husband. It was better. Oliver freaking Queen was her  _husband_. She was his  _wife_. The words just made her feel giddy, like a kid on Christmas every time she thought about it. Married. Oliver. Husband. Wife. 

If someone would have told her six years ago that she was going to marry him, she would have laughed in their face. But now she couldn’t imagine it any other way. And they’d only officially been married for two weeks. How could she already have forgotten what it felt like, before she woke up every day smiling because she was his wife? Now she woke up each morning with him by her side and a weight on her finger as reminders of how the rest of their lives were going to be. Together.

“Oliver, you wanna get married?”

Oliver opened his eyes, squinting as he turned his head to look at her. He glanced around for a moment, his lips pursing, “we did that.”

Felicity shrugged, filling her hands with the white sand of their Bermuda beach and watching it fall through her fingers. She glanced over at him, enjoying the confused look on his face, as if he was wondering if she’d forgotten it happened. “What if we did it  _again_?”

A slow smile spread across his face, and he shook his head at her, turning his face back towards the sun and closing his eyes. Smug. “I barely got you to marry me the first time, now you want to do it every two weeks?”

Felicity laughed, sliding across the blanket so she could rest her chest over his. He stared up at her, his hand instinctively reaching behind her back to run his fingers from the knot of her bikini top to the waistband of her bottoms. “Yeah, maybe I do. Is that a problem, Queen?”

Oliver smiled up at her, “No, but I think people would stop showing up. You can only watch the same two people get married so many times before it gets boring, Queen.”

Felicity nodded, tracing his chest with a sandy finger. “How about just me and you then?”

“You’re serious?”

“I am.”

Oliver bit his lip. “Your mom will kill you. She planned that whole reception for the night after we get back. I think her denial of jet-lag is her way of getting revenge on us for not having her there the first time. I don’t want to have to hold her back if she tries to kill you for marrying me  _again_ without letting her be there to see it.”

Felicity huffed, playfully nudging him. “Do you wanna re-marry me tonight on a beach in Bermuda or not?”

“Yes.” He nodded, smiling up at her and pulling her tighter against his chest. “Yeah. I’ll marry you as many times as you want, honey.”

“Good,” she smiled, leaning down to press her lips against his. He tasted salty from when she’d dragged him into the ocean earlier, insisting that he enjoy her in all of her bikini glory before they had to go back to the cold Star City. He tasted like pure bliss.


	35. I Picked the Right Movie Last Night

_anonymous   asked: _ _Can you write something where Oliver and Felicity watch Psycho together and then Felicity has to shower with the curtain open?_

* * *

Oliver made his way into the bedroom, cocking his head to the side when he heard the shower on and saw the bathroom door wide open.

Not that he minded, but Felicity was extraordinarily particular about showering with the door closed. She liked it when the steam filled the room so that when she stepped out of the shower, everything was warm. He’d almost gotten his head bitten off once when he’d come in to brush his teeth while she was showering, hearing a gargled, “shut the door!” hissed at him from behind the curtain.

Now he just did it to tease her.

But he hadn’t today. “Felicity?” He asked, stepping into the bathroom. He let out an exasperated breath when he saw her, standing naked in the shower as she rinsed shampoo from her hair, the curtain completely drawn back. It might have been sexy had there not been three soaked towels on the floor, and water still spilling onto the tiles.

She opened her eyes to smile sheepishly at him. “Hi,”

“Honey,” he sighed, “what…are you doing?”

“Well,” she shrugged, turning under the stream of water to rinse off her face. She reached for conditioner, not paying any attention to the fact that the towels she’d laid out were useless, and she was flooding their bathroom. “Remember last night when you said, ‘babe, let’s watch a scary movie’? She imitated his voice, making him smile.

“And we watched Psycho…” he said, nodding as he pieced together the whole no shower curtain thing. He couldn’t help but chuckle. She had warned him that she was awful with scary movies, and they always freaked her out for weeks afterwards. It’d only taken minimal begging, with his lips against her neck, to get her to agree to watch one with him.

“And I said,” she continued, massaging her conditioner into her hair without a trace of self-consciousness as she babbled, looking at him, all… _naked_. He swallowed. It was hot. ‘If I watch this movie with you, you’re not allowed to leave my side for the next week’ do you remember me saying that?”

Oliver pursed his lips, snapping his eyes back up to hers. She raised an eyebrow as she rinsed the conditioner from her hair. Now he remembered. He hadn’t remembered that part of the conversation this morning, when he’d slipped out of bed to get a morning run in.

To be fair, he knew that if he didn’t wake up before her, they’d spend all morning in bed. She loved waking him up with kisses…anywhere and everywhere, and it always lead to late mornings. So whenever he woke up before her and had the energy for it, he tried to go for a run.

Oliver pinched his lips together, trying not to smile, thinking about her waking up alone, tip toeing through their house in just his t-shirt and a pair of socks, making sure Norman Bates wasn’t hiding anywhere.

 _Oh, she absolutely would check,_  he thought, unable to stop the wide grin that spread across his face.

“Why are you smiling?” She asked, her eyes narrowing.

Oliver shook his head, “Hm? Oh, nothing. I’m sorry. I forgot I promised not to let you out of my sight all week and protect you from any psychopaths that might try to kill you…in the shower.” He tried to say it without laughing. 

He really tried.

“It’s not funny!” Felicity yelled, but she was giggling too. She flicked her hand out of the water, splashing him. Not that it really made a difference on the already flooded floor.

He smiled at her, trying to control his laughter, “You’re making a  _mess_ , Felicity.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows, humming as she stepped back under the water, letting it run over her head before she stepped away, wiping her face and looking at him again. “Yes, my love, and guess who’s cleaning it up after he abandoned me this morning?”

Oliver chuckled, “Fair enough. Maybe tomorrow you could try closing the curtain though…”

She gave him a look, “Sure, as long as you’re in here with me.”

Oliver groaned, “I picked the right movie last night.”

Felicity laughed, “Yeah, lucky you. Because you are definitely spending the next seven mornings, at  _least_ , taking showers with me.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “What about  _this_ morning?”

Felicity licked her lips, swiping some of the water off of them. “Hm,” she said, turning the gauges until the water stopped. “Too late,” She said, offering him a sarcastic smile.

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head as she stepped out of the shower and onto the wet floor. She glanced at the towel rack and her face dropped. Oliver followed her gaze and laughed even more when he saw that it was empty. “You didn’t notice that you’d thrown all of the clean towels on the floor?” He asked.

Felicity fixed him with a glare, “No,” she groaned, “I just washed some, they’re in the dryer. Could you  _please_ go grab one for me? It’s f-freezing out here.” She complained, her voice shaking with a shiver.

Oliver glanced down her body, dripping with water and noticing certain parts of her reacting to the cold air. He inhaled sharply, “Yeah, one second.” Glancing away, he jogged out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the laundry room. He pulled out a warm towel and brought it up to her. She wiggled, her arms crossed to ward off the chill as he draped it over her shoulders.

Oliver wrapped it around her, pulling it together at her chest, where she wound her fingers in it, holding it closed. He ran his hands up and down her arms, warming her up.

Felicity hummed, stepping closer. He smiled as he turned his face down to her, gently pulling her hair out of the towel and pushing it over her shoulders, watching the water drip off of the ends of her strands and land on the fabric. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands gripping the warm towel at her waist and smelling her shampoo just below his nose.

She sighed, picking her head up from his chest and pressing a kiss against his neck. “You’re wonderful. Even if you leave me alone in a house that could have some creep hiding in it.”

Oliver breathed out a laugh, feeling her wet hair beneath his chin. He kissed the top of her head, “And you’re adorable. Even if you think that I would  _ever_ leave you alone with some creep hiding in our house.” 

Felicity laughed, turning her head to look up at him. He glanced back down at her, his eyes dancing between hers before he dropped his mouth to her lips. Oliver nudged the towel off her shoulders, letting it fall open and laughing when she squealed. He bent down to pick her up, pulling her tight against his chest and wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm. The towel was forgotten on the soaking floor as he carried her to the bed, listening to her giggle in his ear.


	36. Who Needs Fairy Tales, Anyway?

“Oliver.”

He has his face on her pillow, so close that she can feel his breath on her shoulder. Her husband groans, moving closer until his face is nestled in her neck. His arm is draped over her stomach and his foot is rubbing against hers in his sleep. He’s wrapped around her completely, and this is her  _favorite_ way to fall asleep.

But she stares up at the ceiling, unable to turn her brain off. “Oliver,” she whispers again, giggling when his response is to burrow his face into her neck further, sighing as his nose grazes her ticklish spot.

She feels him smiling before he presses a kiss just under her ear. “You okay?” He asks, awake now, his voice thick with sleep.

“Were you sleeping?” She asks innocently, knowing that he was. Oliver just laughs quietly against her cheek and tries to cuddle back in. When she pulls away from him, untangling herself from his grasp, he frowns. “I was just thinking…whose last name is our daughter going to take?”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrow, “Well, I don’t know. Whose do you want her to take?”

“Yours.” She replies instantly.

He hesitates, “Okay. You sound pretty sure of that, so why, exactly…” he pauses to lean over her and look at the alarm clock, “are you up worrying about it at two in the morning?” He finishes asking around a yawn.

She knows that he prefers the alarm clock on  _his_ nightstand, mostly because she never wakes up fast enough to turn it off and he has to climb over her every morning to push the buttons, usually cursing at the thing. But she wouldn’t wake up if it wasn’t right next to her face, screaming in her ear. And if the alarm clock doesn’t wake her up, then he has to resort to  _other_ ways of waking her up. Ways that always make them both late for work.

They’d argued about it for thirty minutes one morning before falling into a fit of giggles at how ridiculous it was that  _these_ were the problems their life consisted of. Who gets the alarm clock on their side of the bed. 

It was  _amazing_. 

Plus, she’d gotten her way in the end, and some incredible makeup sex.

“Because,” she sighs, holding on to his arms to keep him from dropping back onto the bed. He looks down at her, seeing something in her expression that makes him pause. And then he sighs, realizing that he’s not getting back to sleep just yet as props himself up onto his elbow. 

“What is it?” He asks gently, staring down at her with perfect focus, his other hand coming up to rest on her stomach.

“I was just thinking, what is she going to think when she’s growing up, and all of her friends’ parents have the same last name and hers are different. Will her teachers think we’re separated? Will they think I’m just your girlfriend or something? What if something happens, and they call you, and you don’t pick up because you’re busy, but they don’t bother to call me because they don’t realize that I’m her mom?”

“Felicity…” Oliver says, shaking his head as if he’s way too tired to follow her babbling at the moment. “William’s teachers call you if there’s a problem, don’t they? Because we told them to. It doesn’t matter what our last names are, I don’t think it works like that. We’re their parents. If your name is on the emergency contact, then I’m sure they’d call you.” He narrows his eyes at her, “Why are we even talking about this? Our baby hasn’t been born yet. Why are you worrying about her  _teachers_ , honey?”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, looking past him and up at the ceiling again. “You’re right.”

Oliver hums, leaning down to kiss her, but she tips her head and he catches the corner of her mouth. He doesn’t mind, running his lips across her cheek, covering her in kisses. “You’re right,” she says again, sighing as his lips start trailing down to her neck. He hums again, but she squirms away from his lips, making him freeze.

“What if she looks just like you, and she doesn’t look anything like me, and everyone asks you whose baby she is. You know? Like they’re joking but it’s also true because she doesn’t even look like she’s mine and Curtis makes some joke about how she must be some other lady’s daughter even though that wouldn’t make any sense because, you know,  _I’m_ the one she’ll be coming out of, but what if she’s nothing like me and she hates me and my mother starts asking me if I’m sure that I had a baby, and it spirals our little girl into an identity crisis and it’s all my fault and-”

“Felicity?” He pulls back, picking his face up from where he’d had his mouth frozen against her jaw. Staring down at her, he shakes his head, his eyes actually weighed down with concern. She’s panicking. Even if he thinks her worries are irrational, he can hear the real distress in her tone. His hand strokes her hair as he stares down at her, “That’s not going to happen, baby.”

She glares at him, “Humor me.”

Oliver sighs, “First of all, there’s no way our daughter won’t be just as beautiful as you. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to deny her of that.” Felicity’s breath catches in her throat, and she’s pretty sure she actually blushes, as if she isn’t expecting her husband to inadvertently call her beautiful even though he does it constantly. “Second of all, even if she does have the misfortune of looking  _more_ like me, then she’ll remind us all of who her mother is in plenty of other ways.” He paused, chuckling softly, “Sometimes I wonder if she’ll be walking and talking before we can even catch our breaths… a tiny, adorable, brilliant, fast learner just like you.”

Felicity grins, “You think about that?”

“I  _worry_ about that!” He laughs, “Donna told me the stories. You could run as fast as you can talk. Your mom was unprepared, you started walking so early. If our daughter is anything like the “Felicity Tornado”, we’ll have our hands full. And your mother will definitely not be questioning if she’s yours.”

Felicity smiles, “She told you about the “Felicity Tornado”, huh?”

Oliver gives her a look, “Felicity, there’s not a doubt in my mind that our daughter is going to be the perfect balance between you and me.”

“My brain, your muscles?” She asks. He chuckles, and Felicity pulls his face down until his forehead is pressing against hers. “My brain,” she whispers, “Your heart.”

Oliver sighs before kissing her. She’d meant it to be sweet, she really did want her children to have their father’s heart. His sensitivity and warmth. There was already so much of it in William. 

But every time she complimented him in this particular area, he responded with…a lot of passion, like her mentioning it made him want to show her that she was right. She knew that for a long time, he’d seen himself as heartless. Cold. That hadn’t been what she saw when she looked at him, though. And it definitely wasn’t what she felt when he kissed her.

They both know that they only have a few more hours before they have to wake up for work, and Felicity knows especially, since Oliver has a meeting and she has to bring William to school, which means waking up an hour earlier than usual. But her husband groans, his tongue gliding across her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she doesn’t care about sleep anymore. She opens her mouth, her hands shoving into his hair and dragging him closer. 

They both feel it at the same time, a tiny jolt between them, right under his palm that’s resting on her stomach. Oliver gasps at the same time that she sits up, looking down at his hand.

And then it happens again. 

“She just kicked,” Felicity breaths.

Oliver beams, “Felicity,” he says, licking his lips. “You can be honest with me…have you felt that before, and you just didn’t want to hurt my feelings if I missed it?”

She shakes her head, chuckling because they both know that’s something she’d do. “No. No, Oliver, I swear. That was the first time it’s happened. Wow, that feels so  _weird_ …but so cool.”

Oliver keeps his hand firmly on her stomach, waiting to feel it again as he looks down at her. The look in his eyes tells her that he’s just as astonished as she is.  Just as happy. He leans back down to press his lips to hers. He can barely kiss her though, he’s smiling so hard. 

It’s adorable, and Felicity is still thrown off in those moments, that this is the same man who resigned himself to living and dying alone in a dark basement. The same man who was convinced that he’d be killed sooner rather than later, that the life he led would catch up to him before he ever had a chance at  _this_. It was such a different man than the one she’d first met. But just as beautiful. Maybe just a little less broken. A little more whole.

She’d watched him change, right in front of her. 

 _With_ her. For  _her_. 

She’d happily done the exact same thing. And now, like their wedding day, or the day she adopted William, or the day they found out they were pregnant, she feels a specific kind of peace. A special moment where she can  _feel_ their lives becoming grounded. Solid and steady. Like they are planting permanent roots. Together. It brings the kind of bliss that makes her certain… he is everything she’s ever wanted. 

It makes her feel completely whole, like every ounce of her mind, body and soul  _knows_ that this is right. Knows that Oliver Queen is right. What they’re building together is  _right_.

As he pulls back, he shakes his head, that wonderful smile still on his face. “I can’t believe I got to feel it…the first time. Felicity, this is remarkable.”

“I think she’s trying to tell us to go to bed,” Felicity laughs.

“Or maybe she just likes that her mommy and daddy were about to show each other how much they love each other.”

“Mommy and daddy.” Felicity huffs, the words sounding strange, especially coming from  _his_ lips. She never thought she’d hear Oliver saying words like  _mommy_ and  _daddy_.

“That’s going to be  _weird,_ ” she breathes, “but cool.” Then she scrunches her nose, “Kids seem to find that gross, though. I don’t think children necessarily  _like_ to think about their parents being in love.”

“Ours will.” he says with a confident nod, making her heart feel warm. “She’ll know that the love between her parents is real. And special…and something that she should strive for. Honest…and healthy, and  _kind_. Something…something she should wait for. God knows how miserable I would be if I had settled for anything less than the best…less than  _you_. Our daughter is going to have the perfect example of true love. Right in this house. Who needs fairy tales, anyway?”

Felicity lets out a breathy laugh. How can he still do that? How can he still take her breath away? He does it  _all the time_ … with his words, his touch…with his love. 

She knows he’s right. What they have is the closest thing she’ll ever get to a love like the stuff kids grow up dreaming about. And it’s  _better_. Nodding slowly, Felicity smiles up at him. “Who needs fairy tales, anyway?” She whispers, enjoying the sound of it, reveling in the idea that their life out-shines every story she’s ever heard.

It’s like he can read her mind, because his eyes soften as he stares down at her. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

He kisses her cheek before moving down to kiss her stomach, mumbling a soft _“I love you”_ to the baby, too. And her hand falls to his head, her heart absolutely melting. She  _loves_ when he does that, which is at least four times a day, ever since she’d started to show, and it hadn’t gotten any more precious.

“Oliver,” she says. He picks his head up to look at her. “I want to be a Queen.”

Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “You do?”

Felicity nods, “I created Smoak Enterprises. I built my career. On my own name. Now I want to be a mother. And I want to have the same name as my daughter. And you. Our family.” She hesitates as he stares at her, “Can I?” She asks softly, biting her lip. “Would that…would that be okay?”

Oliver nods quickly, moving up her body until he’s kissing her. “Of course,” he says against her lips, “Of course it would be okay. Are you sure? This isn’t just because of those silly fears of yours about teachers and Curtis and your mom, is it?”

She shakes her head with a laugh, surprised that he even absorbed  _that_ much after the way she’d rambled. “No, I want to. I’m ready to. I want to be a Queen. Felicity Queen. Mrs. Queen. Hmm, Mrs. Queen-Smoak?”

“Felicity Queen-Smoak.” He nods, “I love it. Mr. and Mrs. Queen-Smoak.”

“You want to change your name, too?” She teases, poking his rib.

“Ow.” Then he shrugs, “Sure.”

“Really?”

“Why not?”

Felicity hums, pulling him back down onto her chest. She tucks his face into her neck just as he’d been before she’d so rudely woken him to fill his ears with her worries. She closes her eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “Oliver, Felicity, and Baby Queen-Smoak. Sounds like a family from a fairy tale or something.”

Oliver chuckles, nestling into her neck again, getting back into his comfortable position. He pushes his leg between hers, his hand still on her stomach like he’s waiting for another kick. “We’re definitely picking a name soon, now that she has a last one.”

“Any time,” Felicity breathes, feeling the weight of her frivolous troubles falling off of her, her eyes growing heavier. Oliver kisses her cheek once, twice, and a third time. “Starting tomorrow,” she groans, cuddling against him as close as she can get.


	37. "Yes. Or as I Like to Call Her, Your Psycho Ex-Girlfriend" (Arrow Out of Context)

_verdantvendetta asked: #10 "Yes. Or as I like to call her, your psycho ex-girlfriend." (from the Arrow Out of Context prompts on Tumblr!)_

* * *

Her husband was dangerously close to the edge of reverting back into self-blaming mode. After Vince’s death, with Dinah on a one woman mission to kill James’ whole team, and a scared city under the thumb of a psychopath, he was feeling pretty hopeless.

“Oliver,” Felicity said, shaking his shoulders a little bit as she stood in front of him. “We can do this.”

He sighed, blowing out a breath and closing his eyes. “I really hope so.”

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, nudging herself between his legs so she could hug him. He hugged her back instantly, but she kept her grip tight until he relaxed. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he let out a deep sigh.

She frowned, not liking how stressed out he was. He’d moved on from the days of believing that every scratch and bruise in the city was his fault. But he still had his moments. 

Especially after his talk with Dinah. 

Their friend was in a world of pain, and Felicity knew that with a heart as big as Oliver’s, he had to be taking some of that pain onto his shoulders, too. It was who he was. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured. “ _Dinah_ is going to be okay.”

“I know,” he mumbled back softly, his hand rubbing her back as he pressed his face into her neck. “I love you.”

Pulling back when his beard tickled her, she grinned, quirking her shoulder. “I know. I love you, too.”

Hey, uh, Felicity?”

They both turned to look at Alena from across the bunker, where she was on Felicity’s computer, trying to find more about the footage of Cayden’s son. Felicity frowned as she leaned past Oliver, who stiffened even more at the sound of Alena’s voice.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity led him over to her computers. “Who is The Huntress?” Alena asked, her brows furrowing as she pointed to the screen.

Felicity gasped as she saw the photos. The traffic cameras picked up Helena Bertinelli’s face. Nudging Alena aside, Felicity tapped on her keyboard until more pictures flooded the screen. “Cameras show her heading straight for Star City.”

Oliver’s jaw tightened, “Her cousin is dead, maybe she’s just coming for the funeral.”

Felicity gave him an incredulous look. “Pretending the sentence you just formed wasn’t as naive as ‘hey, maybe I should sleep with this woman,’” Felicity imitated his voice. “ _Maybe_ she’s coming to kill a ton of people to avenge her cousin’s death like she did for her fiance.”

Oliver sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples. “Why would she do that?”

“Why did Cayden have to kill Jerry Bertinelli? Why do insane people do anything?” Felicity countered, her eyes wide.

“She’s not…Helena is not insane. You’ve been keeping tabs on her, Felicity, but so have I. She’s gotten better since we last saw her. She broke out of prison months ago and hasn’t dropped a body since her father died.”

“Right, and if it had been anyone else, we wouldn’t have even given them the  _opportunity_.”

“But she didn’t.” He said lowly. Felicity let out a disbelieving breath.

Oliver sighed, “Adrian Chase was kidnapping my son, threatening everyone I love, and blowing up an island when Helena broke out of prison. I didn’t really have a day off to track her down.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing. A question, or maybe a lecture, was on the tip of her tongue, but before she could respond, Alena whistled. “Okay, so aside from  _complicated_ , who exactly is The Huntress?”

Oliver’s eyes shifted to the brunette, and Felicity gritted her teeth as annoyance crossed his face. “Her name is Helena Bertinelli.” He mumbled.

“Yes. Or as I like to call her, your psycho ex-girlfriend.” Felicity offered sarcastically. 

Her jealousy was adorable most of the time…endearing, but not when it was about The Huntress. Not when it was over a killer who had a reputation like this. Not when Helena had already tried to use Felicity, when she could have hurt her… He just wanted his wife as far away from Bertinelli as possible. Oliver sighed, “Honey, we don’t have time for this.”

Felicity shrugged, sitting down next to Alena. “Alena can keep working on the video, you and John can hit the streets for Cayden James’ men,” she cracked her knuckles, “and I’ll try to figure out what your psycho ex-girlfriend is doing back in town.”

Her husband winced, “Fine, just… please stop calling her that.”

“Why? You think the woman who cried over her father’s death… because she  _wasn’t_ the one who killed him… _isn’t_ crazy?”

Alena’s eyes widened, and Felicity met her gaze and rolled her eyes as if to say,  _I’ll tell you about it later._  

Oliver really didn’t like this.

When he huffed, Felicity shrugged, and Alena opened her mouth to say something. Oliver held up his hand, “It was a lot more complicated than that.”

Alena raised her hands in surrender, “No argument here. I was just going to say that if she came back here to get the rest of the Bertinelli inheritance, Star City Bank might be a good place to start?” She asked, looking at Felicity.

Felicity nodded, her fingers already flying across the keys. “The Bertinelli estate was just sold last week. Since psycho ex-girlfriends don’t have rights to family fortunes, Jerry’s daughter was the sole benefactor. She sold the property and made a significant amount of money.”

“Enough to draw your husband’s ex back into town?”

Oliver growled under his breath, now they were just trying to annoy him. Felicity shrugged, “Maybe she came back to take the money she thinks should be hers.”

Alena held her hand out, and Felicity slid her fingers across her palm. “Let’s go hunt a huntress.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, clearly displeased.

“Do you have a problem with that, Oliver?” Felicity asked, glancing up from her screen as she typed, leveling him with a look. He’d only been married to her for a few weeks, but he knew  _that_ look. He’d be sleeping on the couch if he wasn’t careful with his words.

“I just think that I should stay here. We should be focusing on Cayden James.”

His wife raised an eyebrow, “Well I think…that if Helena is a threat to the fine people of Star City, as history proves, as well as one very uncomfortable night spent tied up on my office floor…then we should be multitasking, not ignoring her and letting her do whatever she wants because you used to sleep with her…honey.”

Oliver pinched his lips together. “Can I talk to you?”

Felicity sighed, giving him an apologetic look. “You can go, Oliver.” She said gently, “we’ll get a start on this.”

Oliver’s eyes drifted between the two women, his lips pursing. “I think John can handle it for tonight.”

Felicity shook her head, “What will you do here? Watch over our shoulders?” She frowned, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

He put his hands on his hips, glancing at Alena again. “I’ll just wait and see what you find…and then you and I can go home.”

She cocked her head to the side, “This will probably take a while.”

Oliver let out an exasperated breath, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He asked again. This time he reached for her hand before she could reply, and she let him pull her up from her chair and lead her into the back room.

“Why are you so against finding The Huntress?” Felicity demanded before he could speak.

Oliver closed the door behind him with a sigh, “I don’t like leaving you alone with her.” He whispered honestly.

“The Huntress? What?”

“Alena.”

Felicity dropped his hand and crossed her arms, “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not going to go all ‘dark Felicity’ again just because I’m friends with Alena.”

“That’s not…you know that’s not what I mean.” He reached out to hold her waist, his eyes meeting hers. “I just don’t like the idea of you being alone with someone who worked so closely to Cayden…who we still know  _so_ little about, Felicity.”

“She’s one of the good ones, Oliver. She’s not going to convince me to drink the cult kool-aid if you leave her alone with me for a few hours.”

He stared at her, “What I mean is…” he said slowly, “what if she hurts you?”

Felicity laughed once, stepping closer to cup his face. “She wouldn’t.”

He clenched his jaw, his eyes hesitant as he looked at her. “I don’t trust her.” He mumbled.

Felicity raised an eyebrow, “So…you don’t trust the woman who’s been down here trying to help us stop Cayden James for  _weeks_ , but you trust the woman who tied me up, took your friends hostage, and who kills for a twisted vendetta?”

Oliver huffed, “I never said I trusted Helena.”

“Then why don’t you want to find her?”

He sighed, “I do. Just not if it means leaving you here alone.” When Felicity just raised an eyebrow, Oliver cocked his head to the side, “We’re talking about Alena right now.”

Felicity shrugged, “Right. Alena… who  _I_ trust. Do you see the irony here?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “ _You_ are the one who has bad judgement when it comes to beautiful women,” she said, poking a finger into his chest.

He cringed, both at the sharp jab of her finger and at her words.

“ _I_  tend to be a pretty good judge of character.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to the side and smirking.

Oliver narrowed his eyes, “Don’t try to be cute with me. You’re not fighting fair.”

“I’m not?” She teased, biting her lip and stepping closer. He let out a noise of disagreement. “Look,” she continued, “either way, we can’t just let Helena waltz through town without knowing what she’s up to. Alena can help us, and she wants to. That’s good enough for me.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. “It’s not ‘good enough’ for me…not where your safety is concerned, Felicity.”

“And I love you for that, but you need to trust me.”

Oliver’s eyes flickered. She knew that bringing up his trust in her was always the button that could be pushed to make him do anything she asked. “I do trust you.”

“Then you’ll go help John find Cayden’s evil posse tonight, and I’ll call you if we hear anything about Helena or the video footage.”

Oliver closed his eyes, his fingers tightening on her back. “Could you just…could you please call me either way? So I know you’re okay?”

She nodded seriously, pulling his face down so she could rest her forehead against his. “You know, Dig taught me how to get out of zip ties now, so if The Huntress does show up again…”

Oliver winced, frowning at her, “You’re not funny.”

Felicity smiled, letting her nose brush against his. “I’m kinda funny.”

“Mm-mm,” He disagreed, brushing his lips against hers.

“I will call you.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“Hey guys,” Alena’s voice came from the doorway just as Felicity was about to kiss her husband. Turning to look at her, Oliver’s hands tightened on Felicity’s waist, holding on to her hips protectively. “Sorry to interrupt, but psycho ex-girlfriend is breaking into Star City Bank.”

The women both heard him growl again, assuming that he was irritated about having to bust a bank robbery. But he really just hated their amusement in reminding him that he’d dated Helena.

 


	38. "Grounded? I've Never Been Grounded!" (Arrow Out of Context)

_foreverfelicityqueen  asked: number 2 if you haven't already._

_“Grounded? I’ve never been grounded!”_

_“Well, you never committed larceny before.”_

_From the Arrow out of Context prompts on Tumblr_

* * *

 

“William, no video games for a week. And…you’re staying home this weekend.”

“Dad, my friends already got tickets to the hockey game on Saturday.”

Oliver shook his head, “You’re…” he looked to Felicity for help, but she just met his wide eyes and shrugged. “Um, you’re grounded.”

“Grounded? I’ve never been grounded!”

“Well, you never committed larceny before.”

“Oliver…” Felicity breathed, giving him a look. “Woah, let’s not overreact here.”

He hesitated, and then took a deep breath, “William, please go to your room. We’ll talk more about this later.” His son stood up, looking defeated, and headed for his bedroom. “And buddy,” Oliver called after him, “no video games.”

William nodded sympathetically, and Oliver waited until his door was closed before he looked at his wife.

Felicity was pouting.

Full on, lower lip sticking out, puppy dog eyes  _pouting_. Oliver pointed a finger at her and shook his head “Don’t.”

“I would barely call taking some of my jewelry  _larceny_ , Oliver!” She hissed, leaning towards him.

Oliver sighed, leaning back into the couch and putting his hands over his face. “Are you telling me I’m being too hard on him?”

Felicity came over to the couch, curling up against his side and rubbing his shoulder. As he exhaled, he dropped his hands from his face, finding her fingers and lacing his through them. “I’m just saying,” Felicity said quietly, leaning over to rest her chin on his shoulder, “that your son has a  _crush_. And he wanted to impress her. He’s not a criminal, Oliver. He’s a sweet kid that wanted to give the girl he likes a bracelet.”

Oliver nodded slowly, “I just don’t want this to spiral. If you had seen the things that Thea and I did when we were teenagers…”

Felicity smiled, rubbing her thumb against his, “He’s  _twelve_. And he’s not like you and Thea were. I’m not saying that what he did was okay, and I agree with the grounding and everything…but his heart was in a good place, Oliver. Just like yours always is.”

Her husband glanced down at her, his eyes tired but his expression softened. Grounding his son seemed as draining as dealing with Cayden James, but it was clear that he was grateful to have her by his side.

Oliver turned his head towards her and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know. I just never want him to get into the things that I did…half of the time I was lashing out at my parents, and the other half I was just trying to get their attention.”

“I don’t think William sees you the way you saw your parents.” She said confidently.

“He doesn’t see  _either_ of us that way.” Oliver replied, squeezing her hand. “I know that. But if my mom had grounded me once in a while instead of paying off all of my stupid mistakes, maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”

Felicity smirked, “You didn’t turn out so bad. And it’s not like we’ve ever had anything even  _close_ to this issue with William. You heard him, he’s never been grounded!” She teased, mimicking the shock in William’s voice.

Oliver chuckled, “We should go in there and make him apologize or something.”

Felicity grinned, “No need. He already did.”

“Of course he did,” Oliver breathed.

“He’s the best parts of you, Oliver. Not the worst. And he must really like this girl.” Felicity said, gauging Oliver’s reaction.

Her husband just shrugged, “I guess so…”

Felicity pursed her lips, “he asked me if she could come over and study with us.”

Oliver frowned, “are they allowed to have friends  _here_ if they’re grounded?”

She laughed, kissing his cheek, “I don’t think so? But he does have a test this week, and he needs to study, so maybe we could make an exception.”

Felicity watched as he closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath, “This parenting stuff is kind of hard.”

She nodded, kissing his face some more, “But you’re doing such an amazing job at it.” She whispered in his ear.

“So are you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, taking his earlobe between her lips and getting the desired response. He shivered, and she smiled.

Oliver turned his head to look at her and raise an eyebrow. Felicity bit her lip, “We have one more…tiny… _little_ thing that we should talk about before we go finish this conversation with William.”

Oliver glanced down at her mouth, “I really like this…you and me…figuring out this parenting thing. Together.”

She grinned at him, pure happiness written all over her face. “Me too. We’ve always made a good team…even if I didn’t exactly imagine us trying to raise a twelve year old.”

“I didn’t either…I don’t regret any of it though,” he mumbled, meeting her gaze.

Felicity groaned when she noticed the look in his eyes. “Neither do I.” She inhaled sharply and pulled back when he leaned forward to kiss her. “That’s not what I need to talk about, though.”

Oliver froze, his eyebrows furrowing, “What is it?”

“Roy was the one who put the idea of stealing in his head.” Oliver raised an eyebrow and she continued, “Not on purpose! He suggested that William get the girl he likes a present so that she would notice him. But he meant winning her a stuffed animal from a claw machine or something. William just, um,  _misinterpreted_.”

Oliver stared at her for a moment, “how did William…misinterpret that?”

“Because it’s  _Roy_.” She said simply, raising her eyebrows.

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He let his head fall to the back of the couch, closing his eyes. Then he pulled Felicity under his arm.

She settled into him, laughing as she put her head on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we be talking to William?” She asked quietly.

He tightened his arm around her, dropping his other hand to her knee and squeezing it as if he was worried she’d try to get up. “In a minute please,” he sighed.

Felicity smiled. It was incredible how the simple act of holding her could relax him. Sometimes it seemed like he just needed to touch her so that he could feel anchored and calm. And there was no better feeling than being that person for him.“Okay,” She said gently, rubbing her hand across his chest, “But what are we going to tell Roy?”

Oliver huffed, kissing the top of her head. “Roy’s grounded too.”


	39. Bodyguard Felicity: Part 1 (Arrow Out of Context)

anonymous  asked: Please do 1 and 7!!!!!

_“I guess from now on I’ll be watching you pee.”_

_Arrow Out of Context prompts!_

* * *

 

Oliver couldn’t deny that the tiny blonde girl was gorgeous, but he was surprised to see her. After slipping past six of his mother’s assigned body guards, they’d only gotten bigger and meaner looking with each new one.

Clearly the company that worked for his family was well-informed about his talent for escaping the detail.

As the son of the mayor, he’d grown up with the protection. So he’d become an expert at avoiding them; choosing the right moment to sneak out, knowing when it would work and when it wouldn’t. Since the most recent bodyguard had looked like he smashed heads and ate them for breakfast in between his body building competitions, the last thing he expected was the little blonde to be waiting in his kitchen that morning.

He hadn’t been able to stop glancing at her all day. 

Felicity. 

Even her name was sexy.

On a good day, he would have ditched her by now. On a bad day, he’d still be gone by lunch. But sitting in Big Belly Burger with his best friend Tommy, he had very little desire to go anywhere else. Felicity was reading a newspaper on the other side of the restaurant and drinking coffee. He could see her smiling down at the cartoon section…and it was all the entertainment he needed.

Oliver could tell that she was new. She had a nervous edge about her, and he’d almost asked her if his mother had requested her personally. But he didn’t want to shake her confidence even more. He was almost positive that this was Moira’s smartest plan yet. Instead of hiring a scarier looking giant than the last, she probably asked for this girl, assuming that Oliver wouldn’t mind being near her. This gorgeous girl…knowing that he wouldn’t want to bail on her company.

It was smart. As impressed as he was by his mother’s conniving plans, he was also irritated by it. He didn’t want to get the girl in trouble at her new job, and he knew that John Diggle always gave the newbies a hard time when Oliver escaped their surveillance.

Despite the fact that he’d done it to the majority of his staff by the time he was sixteen, Dig liked to use it as some kind of hazing initiation. He frowned down at his burger, not knowing if it would upset the girl to be teased by her coworkers.

Oliver glanced up at the door again, where she was sitting, her body angled at the door but her eyes on him as she sipped her coffee. “Dude,” Tommy said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “I get it. Your bodyguard is a smoke show. Stop staring.”

Oliver pursed his lips, leaning towards his best friend, “you don’t think it’s weird that  _she_ is a bodyguard?”

Tommy turned around to study her, not a hint of remorse on his face when her eyes met his and she blinked, clearly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She lifted her eyebrow at his best friend, and Tommy gave her a flirtatious smirk.

Oliver didn’t like the surge of jealousy that ran through him, nor was he familiar with it. He kicked his friend under the table, “Okay, enough.”

“You’re right.” Was Tommy’s only response, along with a shrug.

Oliver’s eyes met Felicity’s now, and she smiled at him. Oliver groaned, “I haven’t felt guilty about ditching a bodyguard since Dig had to fire Slade Wilson.”

Tommy chuckled as he took a bite of his burger, “Wilson couldn’t find us for an entire  _weekend_.”

“We got on a plane and went to Florida.”

Tommy was still smiling like a devil, “I know, that was an awesome weekend. It wasn’t our fault Mr. Wilson couldn’t keep up.”

Oliver sighed, glancing at the girl again. He knew that Diggle wouldn’t  _fire_ her for losing track of him. It was mostly expected at this point, a right of passage… plus he didn’t have any plans to leave the state while under her supervision.

He glanced at her again, and she gave him another smile. This one was timid, and he swore he saw her blushing when she noticed how intently he watched her. But he couldn’t help it.

Oliver couldn’t control the smile that pulled at his lips in return. Damn, she was gorgeous. Most of his bodyguards didn’t have blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, and an ass like that… let alone painted red lips and one of the cutest smiles he’d ever seen.

Her  _smile_? He needed to get a grip. Lips were one thing. A girl’s ass was a given, but he had never given a damn about a woman’s smile.

Tommy’s laughter broke through his thoughts as Felicity glanced down at her coffee, her tongue coming out between her red lips. Oliver’s eyes reluctantly flickered to his friend, his face dropping and a flush rushing up his neck. “What?” He snapped.

“She’s playing you.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side, “How so?”

“Dig’s team knows how you work, Ollie.” Tommy said, shaking his head as he continued to eat. “You’re used to the meat heads who puff up their chests to try to intimidate you. But there are other ways to make sure a guy like you behaves.”

Glancing at Felicity again while she read the paper, Oliver pointed a finger at her, leaning towards his friend, “you think that woman is flirting with me so that I won’t run off?”

“I think your handler is being resourceful.” Tommy said with a wicked grin.

Oliver sighed, realizing that Tommy was probably right. If his mom had hired Felicity with the same idea, maybe she was on board with it. But damn, was that disappointing. He’d really been hoping that she was interested. “See you tonight.” He said to his friend, getting up from the table.

He could hear Tommy’s laughter as he headed for the bathroom. 

Once in the men’s room, he knew exactly how to push on the rusty window to get it to open. He’d escaped through the bathroom of Big Belly Burger plenty of times.

As soon as his feet were on the pavement, he smiled to himself, taking in a breath of fresh air.

Easy as pie.

He knew he couldn’t take the car since Felicity was right in front of the window, so he opted for scaling the fence from the back alley and catching a cab.

He’d be home in less than fifteen minutes, and then Tommy and Felicity would probably storm in a few minutes later. He’d only met her a few hours ago, and he hadn’t seen anything more than anxious smiles on her face, but he could picture her mad…and it was pretty hot. In his head at least.

As Oliver dropped to the pavement, he was startled by someone clearing their throat right beside him. His eyes darted to the left, seeing Felicity leaning against the brick wall. She raised her eyebrows, unsurprised and unimpressed.

“I guess from now on I’ll be watching you pee.” She said, pushing off of the wall. Oliver quirked an eyebrow, and she cringed. “Never mind,” she recovered quickly. “Are you ready to head home, Mr. Queen?” She asked sweetly.

Oliver smiled at her, “Impressive, Smoak.”

“I don’t think you’re as clever as  _you_ think you are.” She countered, smirking back at him with all of the flirtation that he swore he’d been feeling earlier. 

She was definitely flirting with him.

Oliver stepped away, walking backwards out of the alley and lifting his eyebrows at her, “I’ll see you at home, Felicity.”

She shook her head slowly, following after him. She watched him hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if he’d start running or not.

He could see the moment she got an idea in her head. Felicity licked her lips, drawing his eyes to it as if she’d done it on purpose. And he was too focused on her mouth to notice when she kicked her foot out, catching his ankles before he even knew what was happening.

Just as quickly, he was laying on his back, looking up at her face as she landed on top of him.

Oliver let out a breath of surprise. She’d somehow pinned him to the ground without him feeling a thing. But now that the cool concrete was beneath his back, he blinked up at her. Felicity smiled, “Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Queen.”

“Oliver,” he sighed, disbelief in his voice. Not only had she gracefully pulled that move, but she’d totally turned him on in the process. Of course she did, her body was still pressed against his.

“Are you ready to head home,  _Oliver_?” She asked again, cocking her head to the side.

She still wasn’t getting off of him, and her confidence was sexy as hell. He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her. “Yeah, as long as you teach me how to do that.”

He’d had handlers his whole life and had never cared to learning how to fight. Dig had showed him the basics of self-defense on a couple of rainy afternoons when he was a teenager, but that was out of boredom, not interest. 

But the idea of Felicity doing that to him again, and of her showing him other moves like it, was extremely appealing.

She smirked before getting up and pulling him with her. 


	40. ARGUS Agents: Part 1 (Arrow Out of Context)

[1-crazy-dreamer](http://1-crazy-dreamer.tumblr.com/)  asked: Hi there! I choose quote #7. It's so funny and suggestive at the same time that one lol

_“Seriously? I’ve been working on this for two hours!”_

_“I know, I was watching you. Thank you…for the entertainment.”_

Arrow Out of Context prompts!

* * *

 

Being an A.R.G.U.S agent was everything Felicity Smoak had hoped it would be. It made her feel powerful.  _Important_. Like she had a purpose. But more than anything else, she felt like she was finally doing something good for the world.

Unfortunately, even the technologically skilled recruits had to go through the weeks of training. She liked feeling like she could protect herself, especially in this line of work, but what she really didn’t like was the commanding lieutenant who put them through the sessions.

Oliver Queen had been hard on her ever since she was assigned to his unit. And it was still the first week. Felicity stayed after every night to get a workout in or practice whatever skill they’d learned that day. She wasn’t trying to impress  _him_ , per se… but it had the opposite effect. He’d snapped at her to go home when he found her in the gym after the first day.

Director Michaels told her that it was completely acceptable to use the gyms after hours, so she had no idea why Oliver took such an issue with it. She’d tried defending herself the next night, when he told her to go home again. But now she seemed to be his least favorite student.

On the third day, they’d learned hand to hand combat. The morning started with knives, learning how to defend themselves against them as well as how to disarm someone coming at them with one. In the afternoon, the training was about being resourceful, which apparently meant turning anything you could get your hands on into a weapon.

Oliver had lectured them about how anything can be a weapon, and they’d gone over various scenarios where they might have to use their surroundings in a fight, but the most important thing was that they knew how to use their own bodies.

That night, she’d been working on her punches, pounding her fists into one of the dummies when Oliver had come in, his face twisting in annoyance at the sight of her. “Plant your feet, agent Smoak.” He’s snapped. “Keep your wrist straight. Hit with a purpose, or you’ll break your hand.”

She followed his instructions, clenching her jaw to keep from snapping back at him. 

She’d always been more responsive to nurturing encouragement, but Oliver also wasn’t the only ranking lieutenant at A.R.G.U.S. who believed in tough love. She knew what she’d signed up for, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something  _personal_ about her that he didn’t like. 

She’d been surprised when he approached her, holding his fists up and raising an eyebrow.

It also didn’t help that he was hot at hell. His eyes were a deep blue, always analyzing like the trained soldier that he was, but they had a softness in them that she found baffling. The way he spoke was far from soft. If he wasn’t yelling at them, he was talking in a low, irritated tone, as if he was constantly on the  _verge_ of yelling at them.

When Felicity paused, unsure if he actually wanted her to punch him, Oliver had raised an eyebrow at her, “What did I say about hesitating, agent Smoak?” He’d grumbled.

“You said that hesitation gets you killed,” Felicity breathed, throwing her fist at him as quickly as she could.. He ducked, but she landed a fist into his gut.

They’d sparred for hours, and eventually he had begun to look like he was enjoying himself. His tone had become lighter as he advised her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d actually been impressed.

Finally, she’d knocked him to the ground, climbing on top of him and smirking down with arrogance. She had his arms pinned beneath her knees, and she knew she had him. “I won’t tell the others that I beat you.” She’d whispered playfully, not sure what had come over her.

Even more surprising was the way he had smiled back at her. “That would imply that you’re not  _exactly_ where I want you to be.” He’d mumbled, his eyes sparking with… _something._

Her face fell, her jaw hanging open, and she’d realized that he wasn’t struggling to get out from under her in the slightest. As soon as she’d kicked his legs out from under him, he’d given up, letting her pin him down. 

She still wasn’t sure what was more shocking; that he had let her get the upper hand, or that he had just flirted with her.

Shaking her head to clear it, Felicity raises the bow and arrow they’d been working with that day. To say she had struggled with it would be an understatement. 

She wanted to blame it on Oliver. 

After what he’d done last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She’d scrambled off of him and gone back to her room, and today he’d acted like it didn’t happen. He hadn’t been any nicer, or meaner. It was like he forgot the moment even happened, and he went right back to treating her like his least favorite agent.

By the end of the day, she was partially convinced that she’d imagined that look in his eyes. Even if it’d been burning in her head all last night and all day today.

Firing her arrow at the target, she frowns when it lands in the wall a few feet away. “Breathe, agent Smoak.”

Felicity spins around to see Oliver walking towards her, his green pants and gray t-shirt hugging him in all the right places. He doesn’t stop until he’s next to her. Like,  _right_ next to her. His shoulder brushes against hers. And then his touch becomes more intentional when he slides his fingers down her arm, taking the bow from her hand.

He takes out an arrow from the quiver on her back.

Without a word, he sets the arrow in place, pulls the string back, and looks at the target for a split second before he lets it go. The arrow buries itself in the middle of the target, and Felicity sighs. 

She’d been watching him do that all day. “Show off,” she mutters.

She sees him raise an eyebrow, and her eyes widen. “I’m sorry,” she cringes, wondering if she’d be running laps for that tomorrow morning. Felicity scratches her head, “I just…really can’t get the hang of this.”

“Because you’re not focused.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “that’s been kind of hard today.”

Oliver lifts his chin, staring down at her like he knows exactly why she’s been distracted all day. 

Her eyes glance down to his chest and over his arms. He’s much more distracting now that she’s had that one on one  _training_ with him…and she knows what his body feels like underneath her.

His eyes darken, and she’s perfectly certain that he knows what she’s thinking about. She swallows, stepping back from him when she realizes how close he still is. “Felicity…” he breathes.

Her eyes dart up to his.

_Fel-i-ci-ty._

She’d never heard him say her name like that. Actually, she’s pretty sure he’d never called her by her first name at all. His tongue slips out to wet his lips, and his pupils are blown wide.  _Holy frack._

Oliver clears his throat, shaking his head slightly as he puts more space between them. “I trained under a very skilled archer by the name of Yao Fei.” he offers.

Felicity stares at him for a long moment. “He was an agent for A.R.G.U.S.?”

“No,” Oliver says quietly, shaking his head. “He was my friend.”

She hesitates, staring into his eyes while he just watches her, waiting for her questions. “Why are you telling me this?” She asks gently.

Oliver just shrugs. She’d known that he’s a very silent person, which was partly why she thought he hated her so much. She tends to babble. 

He gestures to the pile of tennis balls behind her.

Felicity watches him for a moment, not sure if he is serious. He’d brought the moving targets out, but none of them had mastered the bow enough to use them before the day was over.

He raises his eyebrows at her, his expression challenging. And she lets out a breathy laugh, picking up a tennis ball.

Thinking that he’d need a moment to position the bow, Felicity tosses the ball into the air without giving it to him. And she catches the glimpse of a smile on his lips, amused by her tactic as he lifts the bow and fires the arrow with impressive speed.

The ball flies across the room, sticking between his arrow and the wall. She exhales in surprise, blinking as if she wasn’t sure she’d even caught all of that. “Seriously? I’ve been working on this for two hours!”

“I know. I was watching you. Thank you… for the entertainment.” He says lowly, circling her and mumbling the words into her ear. 

Felicity shivers as he puts the bow back in her hand, purposefully letting his fingers glide over hers. He pulls another arrow from her back. “Shoulders straight.” He whispers.

Before she knows what he’s doing, he sticks his foot between hers, kicking her feet apart. He guides her arms up to her face, his hand on her elbow as she draws back the bow.

With the arrow in place, Oliver puts his lips just outside her ear. “Take a breath, clear your mind. Just feel the string in your fingers. It’s all about control, agent Smoak. It’s about knowing yourself…your body.” She feels his hand on her hip, and she surprises both of them when she leans into him, pressing her back into his chest. He freezes for a moment before continuing. “You want to be focused, but you can’t be nervous. It takes every instinct you have, yet it’s effortless.

Felicity turns her head slightly, lifting her chin to the same angle that her arrow is pointed, but it also causes her cheek to brush against his lips. She can feel his breath catch in his throat, and his fingers tighten on her waist. 

“You have to open your eyes, Felicity.” He whispers against the warm skin of her cheek.

Her eyes fly open, and her heart stutters, but it regains itself quickly. Oliver’s hand travels up her back, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

She takes one more, final deep breath before she releases her arrow, watching as it lands in the center of the target.

With a surprised gasp, she turns to look at Oliver. And he’s smiling. He looks at her with pride written all over his face, and it’s an addictive new expression. “Thank you,” she whispers.

He nods, his eyes dropping to her lips. “You’re welcome.”

 


	41. College Students: Part 1 (Arrow Out of Context)

_[verdantvendetta](http://verdantvendetta.tumblr.com/): _ _For your prompts (if you’ll let me request another awesome piece from you), do your lucky number. And if your lucky number isn’t between 1-21 or has already been done, do however many letters are in your middle name. Pretty please_

_“And here I thought you didn’t care much about me.”_

_“Still don’t.”_

Arrow Out of Context prompts!

* * *

 

Her hair was in its usual ponytail. She was twirling one finger through it, just as she did every day, with her other hand holding a red pen to her mouth as she chewed on it absently.

All of her attention was on the professor, her eyes trained on him as he told the class all about the ins and outs of a healthy sex life. 

As Professor Diggle explained that everyone has desires, but we’re taught that there are certain standards to be proud of and others to ashamed of, Oliver watches as Felicity leans forward. “The problem,” Professor Diggle said, “is that you’ve grown up in a world that tells you what you’re supposed to find attractive. So you do. Breasts. Muscles. They show you with every beer advertisement and movie what you’re supposed to focus on, and because of that, you never really think to look much deeper.”

Oliver let Diggle’s words settle over him. He’d definitely spent his fair share of time noticing Felicity’s…assets…that was for sure. And if you’d asked him what he thought was the sexiest part of the female body, he would have to admit that he had a predictable answer.

He wasn’t a twelve year old looking at playboy magazines anymore, though. He noticed other things, too. Especially when it came to Felicity Smoak. Actually, he noticed  _everything_ when it came to that woman. And he appreciated everything he saw.

He wasn’t a complete tool.

“Mr. Queen.”

Oliver’s eyes snapped to the front of the lecture auditorium, but he could see Felicity turning to look up at him out of the corner of his eye. 

Of course, she was seated in one of the front rows. When he’d come into class, he’d almost had the courage to sit near her, just wanting to be somewhere in her orbit, but he’d opted for a few rows back at the last minute.

Professor Diggle had a mischievous look in his eyes. “Can you tell me one thing about Ms. Smoak that you find beautiful?” 

Oliver’s face dropped, but Diggle put his hand up to stop Oliver from making a sound, “One  _unconventional_ thing.”

“Professor Diggle-”

“Just look at her,” his professor interrupted, “actually  _look_ at the girl in front of you. What do you notice? What stands out?” As Oliver stared at his professor with his mouth hanging open, Diggle smirked. 

Realizing that Diggle was doing this because he’d caught Oliver staring at her only made the heat on his cheeks deepen. His heart was beating so fast that he could hear it in his ears, which stopped him from realizing that a solid ten seconds had gone by without anyone saying a word.

Finally, the class started to chuckle. “He’s more into brunettes.” He heard Isabel Rochev’s voice chime in from the back of the room.

Oliver glanced down the rows to Felicity, seeing her face flushed almost as red as his. She was embarrassed, and he wanted to kick himself. 

It wasn’t a hard question. He was failing most of his classes, but if he’d been given a twenty page test about what made Felicity Smoak beautiful, he knew he’d be able to ace it.

When his eyes met hers, she glared. “You can’t even think of one answer that isn’t  _ass_ or  _boobs_?” She hissed at him through her teeth, spinning back around in her seat, her ponytail swinging over her shoulder.

“She has a freckle.” He blurted quickly.

The room quieted, everyone turning to look at him, and Oliver could see Felicity’s back stiffen. 

He was really regretting signing up for an elective course titled  _Human Sexuality: Creating Meaningful Relationships_ but he’d be lying if he hadn’t seen it as an opportunity when Tommy told him that Felicity was going to be in it.

“She has this freckle,” Oliver said with a deep breath as Felicity slowly turned back to look at him. He kept his eyes on her, “right on the inside of her wrist,” he finished quietly, pointing to the spot on his own body.

He saw the hint of a smile play across her face, another blush rising on her neck, but this one looked more flattered than mortified. He exhaled in relief. Okay, at least he hadn’t embarrassed her even more.

“Great answer,” Diggle praised, “okay, Ms. Smoak?”

“What?” she asked, spinning back to Diggle.

The professor sat down on the table at the front of the auditorium, holding up a hand to gesture at Oliver. “I made him squirm, it’s only fair.”

Felicity sighed, her shoulders dropping. Oliver grinned, leaning back in his chair and staring at the back of her head. 

Diggle didn’t tell her that she had to turn around and look at him when she said it, but she did anyway… just like he’d been looking at her. He tried not to read too much into that. “He gets this dimple,” she grumbled, touching her index finger to her cheek, “when he laughs.”

Diggle nodded, “Nice. Now, as uncomfortable as that might have been, why do you think I did it?”

“Because you live to torture?” Felicity muttered under her breath.

Professor Diggle laughed, “I hear that every semester, but no. Ms. Smoak, may I put you on the spot one more time?”

Felicity put her hands up, “Sure, why not?” She hesitated, “Why did you make us do that?” She asked in confirmation. He nodded, gesturing for her to give an answer. She sighed, “I don’t know, because it’s a lot more uncomfortable for people to compliment the obscure things than it is to say the common ones?”

“Exactly!” He said, pointing his finger at her. “Mr. Queen,” Diggle said, turning back to him, “can I ask you one more question?”

“Uh… with all due respect, I think I’ve been embarrassed enough for today, Mr. Diggle.”

His professor just shrugged, “Why was it embarrassing for you to tell Felicity you think the freckle on her wrist is attractive?”

“I-” Oliver stuttered, “I guess…for the reason you just said…” He trailed off, knowing that it was only partially true. It also had a  _little_ something to do with the massive crush he’d had on her for the past year. 

Diggle just nodded, “I want you guys to take one of these journals on your way out. Go home this weekend and make a list of features like the ones Oliver and Felicity gave today. They can be details about strangers on the street, things about your friends, your exes,  _yourself_. Just make a list. You don’t need to put names, just the feature. They don’t have to be physical features, either. Someone’s laugh, a personality trait,  _anything_ that interests you. I’ll collect them on Monday as your first assignment. Have a good weekend, everyone.”

Oliver took his time packing his bag, making sure Felicity was on her way out before he stood up.

His best friend Tommy, who’d been sitting in the row behind him, shoved his shoulder as he caught up. “Dude,” he said, “Looks like Felicity Smoak remembers you exist again.”

“It’s not going to happen, Tommy.”

“Oh, come on Ollie. You asked her out  _once_ last year. Did you ever even tell her why you stood her up?”

“Did I tell her that my sister ran her car into a tree because she was high on Vertigo? No, seemed like it might have sucked the fun out of dating me. I had too much to deal with, anyway.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at him, “I think she would have understood.”

“I know she would have. But maybe it was a sign that I shouldn’t be going after a girl like her. She’s way out of my league anyway.”

His best friend laughed, “A sign? Out of your league? Ollie, who are you? Thea’s better now. Doesn’t seem like you have all that much to deal with anymore.”

Oliver shoved him, “Whatever, let’s just get back to the apartment.” He wasn’t about to tell his friend, but he was excited to start his homework, knowing that he could probably fill more than a few pages of the journal Diggle passed out with things he liked about Felicity.

“You know, since I know that you haven’t stopped thinking about her, and since I’m not an idiot and I know exactly why you made us sign up for that goddamn Human Sexuality class, let me just remind you of something that I think you always overlook in all of your over analyzing.”

“What’s that?”

“She said  _yes_ , Ollie. Felicity  _wanted_ to go out with you last year.”

He sighed, opening his mouth to respond, to argue, as they walked through the path towards the parking lot. But Felicity was pacing in front of one of the wooden benches. She glanced up as they approached, and he felt his heart begin to race as he realized that she was waiting for him.

Felicity gave him a small smile, “I just wanted to say thanks,” she said, squinting up at him. Her hair was extra golden in the setting sun and her skin looked perfectly sun kissed. And now Diggle had him romanticizing everything about her.

He bit his lip, thinking that he’d probably been doing that all on his own for a long time now.

“I mean,” she said, “I know Professor Diggle kind of made you do it,” she scratched her eyebrow with her fingers, and he knew she was nervous. She hadn’t been nervous around him in months. Her angry glares had taken the place of the adorable babbling he’d fallen for in the first place. “But, you could have said a lot worse things. So, thank you.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and her eyes widened as he didn’t respond. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he noticed the way she was twisting her fingers together, and he caught a glimpse of that freckle.

Felicity cleared her throat when he spent way too long looking at it, and his eyes darted up to hers. He really needed to chill out before he made himself look like an even bigger idiot than he already had today. He’d been crushed after their failed date, but she had made it easier by hating him. She hadn’t even asked for an explanation. So he’d been able to blow it off. But she was definitely going to see how much he liked her if he wasn’t careful.

“And here I thought you didn’t care much about me.” He said, trying to force a flirtatious smile, to make his voice seem unaffected.

She cocked her head to the side, watching him for a moment, and then she rolled her eyes. “Still don’t.”

He wasn’t even sure why he was so afraid of her knowing what he thought of her. But he knew that the idea of letting her in on it, of giving her the chance to see him for who he really was…terrified him. “What you said was…nice, too…” he smiled, and for the first time in a while, it was genuine.

She nodded, “Okay.” And she smiled at him again, which was two more smiles than he’d gotten from her ever since that disastrous night. “Well, good luck with your assignment this weekend. I’ll uh… I’ll see you on Monday I guess.”

He swallowed, nodding as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tommy,” she waved to his friend as she walked by, heading for her car. Oliver stared at her as she left, adding the way she walked to his list.

“Oh my god, you’re seriously  _useless_.” Tommy complained before shoving him, hard, on the back.

Oliver stumbled forward, his senses coming back to him. “Felicity!” He called after her. She spun around, raising her eyebrows and taking a step back towards him. He jogged to catch up to her, “I was just wondering, if… I know I really ruined things last time, but I was hoping-I mean, I can explain- for what it’s worth…”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments.”

He took a deep breath, “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“Yes.”

 


	42. "There Was Probably a Better Time to Tell You That" (Arrow Out of Context)

_anonymous   asked: How about 13 and 15 for the out of context prompts? Thanks!!_

_“There was probably a better time to tell you that.”_

_“Probably not.”_

_Arrow Out of Context prompts!_

* * *

 

William raised his eyebrows at Felicity as she stuck her head around the corner, looking into the kitchen. He pointed a finger at her, “No. Out.”

She frowned, glancing at Oliver. Her husband just shook his head, “You heard him.”

“You guys are being really unfair.” She complained.

“Felicity, you burned the chicken.” Oliver said. He was no help. 

“I got another one.” She grumbled.

“Yes. That we now have to rush to have ready on time for Aunt Thea and Roy.”

Felicity frowned some more, doing her best to make her husband feel bad. “I was just trying to help.” She said sweetly.

Oliver gave her a look, “You tried, honey. Now let us do it.”

“Then why does Lydia get to stay in the kitchen?”

“Because she’s two,” Oliver said, smirking as he glanced at his wife still hovering in the doorway, “and I’m not letting her anywhere near the stove. A rule that now applies to both of you.”

“Hey,” Felicity said, crossing her arms, her brows furrowing. Oliver chuckled, putting his knife on the counter and abandoning the vegetables to cross the room. He leaned into her, kissing her pouting lips. “Well what am I supposed to do?” She asked.

He smiled down at her, kissing her one more time because he loved the way her mouth looked. “Just relax.”

With a groan, Felicity wrapped her arms around him. “Fine,” she relented, “but I’m taking the kid with me.” 

Felicity took a step into the kitchen so she could get her daughter, but William stepped in front of her, “Eh!” he warned, pointing to the masking tape he’d put on the floor and written on it in sharpie, “No Felicities past this point.”

She grumbled under her breath, backing up over the tape again while Oliver laughed, finding it much too amusing for her liking. He turned to scoop Lydia up and place her in Felicity’s arms. And then he kissed Lydia’s forehead and Felicity’s before waving his hand towards the living room. She rolled her eyes again, “Yeah yeah, we’re going.”

She left the kitchen, mumbling to her daughter as she headed for the couch. “It wasn’t my fault that the timer never went off.” She told Lydia. When the two year old gave her a disbelieving look as if she knew what Felicity was talking about and she knew it was a lie. Felicity snorted, “Okay, forgetting to set it was  _probably_ my fault. But it was an accident. You forgive me, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded enthusiastically, “My forgive you, mommy.”

Sitting on the floor with her daughter, Felicity waited while Lydia roamed through her toys. She seemed to be on a mission for something, and Felicity knew that she was looking for her favorite book. 

Once found, Lydia climbed onto her lap, and Felicity read it four times before the doorbell finally rang.

Her daughter’s head spun around to look at her, and Felicity smiled raising her eyebrows and giving her a wide eyed, excited expression. Lydia mimicked it, “Roy!” she screamed, scrambling off of Felicity’s legs and charging for the door.

Felicity laughed as she followed behind.

Thea was opening the door and Lydia did not bother slowing down at all as she gracefully dodged her aunt and flung herself into Roy’s arms. Thea sighed, looking at Felicity with her hand still on the door. “That still hurts my feelings.”

Felicity lifted her shoulders, “I can’t control it. He’s her first crush.”

“And we all know how Ollie feels about that,” Thea chuckled as Lydia finally gave Thea some attention, leaning out of Roy’s grip to wrap her little arms around her aunt’s neck. “I’m the one who’s related to you!” She joked, tickling the toddler’s sides as she hugged her back.

The giggles that came out of Lydia would never get old, and Felicity smiled as she watched her daughter laugh. Oh, she loved that sound.

Roy closed the door behind them, handing Lydia over to Thea. He gave Felicity a hug. “Hey,” he greeted her, “I heard you almost ruined dinner.”

Felicity groaned, “Oliver!”

“It was too funny not to text them, honey!” He yelled from the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m exiled, but William and Oliver are cooking if you want to go say hi.”

After dinner was successfully saved and enjoyed, everyone sat around the table. Lydia begged to sit on Roy’s lap the moment she was done eating, and he and Oliver told William some of their stories about when Roy was on the team. William had heard most of them before, but he loved listening as much as Roy and Oliver loved reminiscing. It was so strange to her, the way they talked about those memories. The way they remembered them. It was like all of the pain and stress they’d experienced together was irrelevant, and all that remained was the pride. The friendship. 

Felicity and Thea still didn’t hesitate to interrupt when they tried to exaggerate their heroic wins, though.

Thea smiled, watching as Lydia stood on Roy’s thigh, moving her fingers through his hair feverishly and ruining the perfectly styled locks. “You know, I remember John and Lyla saying years ago…how everything about what we do changed when they had a baby. Did you guys feel that way, too?”

Felicity shrugged, “Yeah.” Oliver nodded in agreement. “As soon as we had William to take care of, the things we had to think about shifted. It wasn’t just about us anymore.” She said, looking at her son. “And then when Lydia came along, everything changed again. We were just getting the hang of being parents to a young boy,” she said, winking at him. “but a baby was a lot more difficult to work with than this kid. It was late night feedings and constant attention. We had to learn how to do both, and it wasn’t exactly easy to get used to that change.”

Her husband smiled at her, leaning over to brush his daughter’s hair out of her face. “I think we handled it pretty well.”

“She’s a happy girl.” Thea sighed, staring down at her niece with all of the love that Felicity could hope for Lydia to get in her life.

“Thea’s pregnant.” Roy blurted.

Everyone’s heads turned to look at Thea, even Lydia’s hands froze in his hair, probably sensing the tension in the room more than she understood what it meant. Thea just leveled Roy with a look that was mildly annoyed and extremely unsurprised. “I knew you would end up doing that,” was the first thing she said.

“Aunt Thea…” William trailed off, glancing between her and Roy. “You are?”

She nodded, finally looking at her brother, who sat in his chair with his mouth hanging open. She raised an eyebrow at him, keeping her eyes focused on his face as she leaned towards Felicity, “I can’t tell if he’s going to yell, cry, or laugh.” She whispered.

Felicity analyzed Oliver for a moment, “He’s happy. Just give him a minute.” And then she pulled Thea into a hug. “ _I’m_  happy! That’s amazing Thea! How did you…I mean, when…”

“I’m about ten weeks.”

“Wow,” Felicity sighed, pulling in to hug her again.

“Thea…” Oliver finally broke out of his shock, shaking his head. “That’s…incredible. How do you feel?”

“I’m good.” She said, nodding. “We wanted to tell you guys tonight.”

Oliver smiled, reaching out to hold his sister’s hand. “I’m so happy for you. For both of you.” He said, nodding to Roy.

“There was probably a better time to tell you that.” Roy cringed.

“Probably not.” Oliver said with a grin.

Later, since Felicity had failed the chicken, William stuck her on dish duty, and she gladly agreed. Roy helped to dry them while she washed, and Lydia danced in and out of their legs where they stood side by side at the sink. “So,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his. “You were kind of quiet in there. The thought of being a daddy a little overwhelming?”

“It’s…exciting…” he said, glancing at her, “and terrifying.”

Felicity smirked at him. She knew the feeling, she and Oliver had both had their fair share of nervous freak outs after they found out they were having Lydia. “Do you see the crazy child attached to your leg?” She asked. “I think that should tell you enough about how great you’ll be at this.”

Roy sighed, “I just never… _never_ imagined myself as a father. I don’t know how great I’ll be at it,” he admitted, setting a plate on the counter. “I can’t picture myself being as amazing of a dad as Oliver is.”

Felicity paused, looking up from the forks she was washing to see Roy’s face. She could tell how serious he was. And her heart just  _melted_. “Oh…Roy…” she mumbled, feeling her eyes fill with water.

He pointed a finger at her, “Don’t you dare. Felicity, pull those tears back in right now, I swear to god. I take it back. He’s an awful dad. He sucks. Why’d you ever marry him?”

She laughed even though the tears fell anyway. 

“Daddy!” Lydia screamed, sending Felicity jumping into the air, the forks she still had in her hand going flying. Roy caught them out of the air easily, giving her an irritated look. 

“Daddy!” Lydia yelled again, and they both looked down at her. Her voice was high with panic, making them both hesitate before she screamed, “Roy make mommy cry!”

“Oh, Lydia, no sweetheart,” she said, leaning down to her as she wiped her face.

Oliver came running into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in the doorway. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Felicity, seeing her red eyes. He glanced at all three of them, confused. “Roy say you’re not good daddy, daddy. And he say mommy not should marry you.”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side. “He was kidding,” Felicity chuckled, smoothing Lydia’s hair. “If you’re gonna be my kid, you really need to get a sense for sarcasm, baby.” She teased, pulling her daughter in for a hug.

“I am your kid, mommy.”

“I know,” she said, picking Lydia up. “But Roy didn’t mean that. He was just joking.”

“Then why you cry?” She asked, crinkling her little nose.

Felicity carried her over to Oliver, “Because Roy said he wants to be a really good daddy, just like yours. And it made mommy  _super_ happy to hear that.”

“You happy cry?” She asked, her voice raising in high-pitched disbelief.

She laughed, kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Yes.” 

Oliver laughed once, putting his hand over his heart, “You scared me.”

“Roy and mommy both think you have the  _best_ daddy.” She said, looking up at her husband. His eyes softened as he pulled her under his arm.

“My too.” Lydia agreed, reaching for Oliver, and then all three of them turned to Roy with smiles on their faces. 

He rolled his eyes at all of them, “I’m so out of here.” He said, shaking his head as he tried to leave the kitchen.

“Not without  _hugs_ , Roy!” Lydia objected. 

Seeing that they were all standing in the doorway, he knew he wasn’t about to get past them without cooperating. With another irritated sound that Felicity saw right through, he hugged them.

And then Thea and William weaseled into the doorway, pushing their way into the hug too, once they noticed all the love happening in the kitchen.


	43. Bodyguard Felicity: Part 2 (Arrow Out of Context)

anonymous asked: 12 or 14 for the prompts!!

_“Why do you have a gun?”  
_

_“Because I’m not good with knives.”_

Arrow Out of Context prompts! Sequel to Chapter 40.

* * *

 

Oliver couldn’t keep his mind off of his beautiful bodyguard. His crush was so bad that he had snuck into his mom’s office to take pictures of the bodyguards schedules. Now he knew when Felicity was working, and he was surprised by how much he looked forward to it.

When he told Tommy about how Felicity had caught him trying to escape her security and pinned him down in the alley behind Big Belly Burger, his friend had howled with laughter and said that she sounded just like Oliver’s type.

And ever since then, Oliver had been on his best behavior for Felicity. Diggle knew that the Queen son was smitten with his employee, but luckily he thought it was funny and not problematic.

Felicity worked during the days mostly, but she had some evening shifts. When he saw her name on the roster for those nights, he made sure that he didn’t have plans to go out. He liked spending his time at his home with her.

Since he went out of his way to give her uneventful nights, she didn’t mind using the gym in their basement to spar with him.  _Those_ were always good nights.

She was surprisingly flirty, and he found himself looking forward to making her smile as much as he looked forward to having her sweating in a sports bra as she attempted to teach him something.

“Earth to Oliver,” Tommy clapped his hand over his friend’s shoulder. “None of these women are going to go home with you if you keep sitting here moping.”

It was a Friday night, and he was out at a club with Tommy and Laurel. 

Felicity was supposed to be working and he’d planned on staying home, but she’d been given the night off, apparently. “I’m not moping,” he argued with a frown.

“You definitely are.” Laurel sang, eating the olive from her drink and raising her eyebrows at him. 

Oliver rolled his eyes at her, “I did say that I didn’t feel like going out tonight.” He grumbled.

“Since when do you not feel like going out?” She asked.

“Since he met Felicity Smoak.” Tommy answered before Oliver could say a word.

He glared at Tommy as Laurel quirked an eyebrow, “Who is Felicity Smoak?” she asked, drawing out her name.

“His bodyguard.” Tommy quipped.

Oliver sighed in annoyance, “You know I’m capable of answering for myself, right?”

Tommy winked, “His  _sexy_ bodyguard. Ollie has it bad.”

Laurel chuckled, “He always does.”

“She’s different.” Oliver said. Looking down at his beer, he focused on gliding his finger over the rim of his glass.

Laurel rested her chin on her palm, “Wow, you do have it bad, don’t you?”

He fixed his friend with a look, “I only met her a couple of weeks ago, I do not  _have it bad_.”

“Ollie Queen falls fast and hard.” She said quietly, barely audible over the music. “You always have.” He knew that Laurel had had a little bit of a crush on him since high school, and he’d tried multiple times to see her the same way, but it had never worked out. But he hated that it hurt her feelings whenever he dated other girls. 

“I’m sorry, Laurel,” he sighed, kicking himself. She was such a good friend that he often forgot she had feelings for him at all. She never made it awkward or pushed him for anything more than friendship. Actually, he’d been wondering lately if something had happened between her and Tommy with the strange way they’d been acting around each other. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

She took a sip of her drink, glancing at Tommy, who just watched her. Oliver shook his head, one of them was going to tell him eventually.

“Well, you three look like you’re having a miserable time.”

Oliver spun around to see Felicity, dressed in a strapless blue dress and high heels. She looked completely different than she did at work, but just as beautiful. Her hair was down, she wasn’t wearing glasses, and she had more makeup on than usual. “Hi,” he breathed in surprise. “Felicity.”

 _Felicity?_  He caught Laurel mouthing to Tommy, her eyebrows shooting up and a wide grin spreading across her face.

Felicity smiled, but he tore his eyes away from her when he noticed the guy next to her, the hand that was attached to hers. “Carter.” Oliver said with even more shock.

“You two…know each other?” Felicity asked, cocking her head to the side.

“We all went to high school together.” Carter offered. “Me, Oliver, and Tommy and Laurel too.”

Felicity waved, “Well, what a nice little reunion. I didn’t really have friends in high school. Unless the other two kids in the computer club counted as my friends, but they didn’t really like to talk, at all…and I mean, clearly I do. They…did not look like any of you, either.” She said, glancing around at the group.

Oliver let out a low chuckle, wondering if her babbling would ever stop amusing him. When she looked at him, she smiled. He couldn’t help himself, he gestured to their interlocked hands and raised an eyebrow at her. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Felicity.”

She looked down at her hand as if she forgot Carter was holding it. “Oh, we’ve gone on two dates, this being the second. We’re not  _dating_ dating. Just…dating. I know it’s the same word but it means something different in my head,” she blurted, smacking Carter in the chest.

Oliver smiled, leaning closer to her, “I would have thought you’d mention it, with all the time we spend together, I mean.” He said slowly, raising an eyebrow at her and completely ignoring Carter Bowen’s presence.

Felicity chuckled, “maybe if so much of that time wasn’t spent with you on your back, you would’ve had a chance to  _ask_ if I was seeing someone.” She said, leaning towards him, too. Oliver gave her a crooked smile. The attraction was undeniable. He knew she felt it as much as he did.

She stood in front of him, holding another guy’s hand, and she still had that flirtatious look in her eyes. She still looked at  _him_ like she felt something for him. Carter Bowen was a speed bump. But unlike previous conquests, he wasn’t just trying to get another man’s girlfriend into his bed. He wanted Felicity, he knew he did. More than a game, more than a one time thing.

Felicity’s face dropped in the same moment that Carter released her hand.

“Uh…” He glanced between them. “You two…?”

Her eyes widened, but Oliver just grinned. He’d really been hoping she’d say something like that. “I help Oliver work out!” She said, “Like, in a gym. I train with him. Which usually ends in me kicking his ass, and him….on his back, hence…” Felicity closed her eyes, shaking his head.

“Oh,” Carter said, “Right. Okay.”

When their table was ready, Oliver could see the hesitation on Felicity’s face, and he quickly asked if they wanted to come eat with them instead of waiting. Felicity agreed enthusiastically, much to his pleasure. And Carter looked irritated, which was just a bonus.

Oliver was happy when Carter followed behind Tommy and Laurel to the table, leaving Felicity behind and giving Oliver the perfect opportunity to put his hand on her lower back and lean into her. He put his lips to her ear as he led her behind his friends, “Carter Bowen, Felicity? Really?” he asked, careful to keep his voice light and teasing, masking the disdain he was really feeling. “You can do a lot better.”

Felicity just lifted her shoulder, leaning against him and looking incredibly satisfied with his words. She  _liked_ this. She liked that he was giving her so much attention, that he was even a little jealous. And he liked that she liked it.

When they got to the table, Carter pulled out her chair and she sat beside him, but Oliver made sure to put himself directly across from her.

For the entire dinner, despite Carter’s best efforts to keep Felicity’s attention and to make Oliver look like an idiot, the guy was having a terrible date. Felicity barely looked interested in him, seeming more entertained by Oliver, Tommy, and Laurel’s stories than his pretentious bragging.

The sparks flying across the table between Oliver and Felicity also couldn’t be denied or ignored. By the end of the meal, Oliver almost felt bad for Bowen, but then he’d stood up from the table while Laurel was in the middle of a sentence, putting his hand on Felicity’s shoulder. “I have to wake up early tomorrow, so I’d like to be getting home,” he said. Not only interrupting, but speaking to her in such a condescending tone that Oliver wanted to knock his teeth in.

Felicity looked surprised for a brief moment, but then she nodded, glancing at Laurel apologetically, “Okay.”

Bowen clenched his jaw, clearly he was reaching his limit on patience for the evening. He’d probably be pissed if the girl he took out spent the date flirting with another man, too, but Oliver didn’t care. Carter was an ass. 

It’d felt more like a date for  _him_ and Felicity, and he wasn’t sorry about that. “Well are you coming?” Carter snapped.

Felicity crinkled her nose, “Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” She asked, keeping her voice perfectly controlled and calm while Oliver, Tommy, and Laurel all had their mouths hanging open. For such a self-proclaimed saint, Bowen was in especially crude manner tonight. And he’d only been on one date with her? Oliver was certain that there was no way he was getting another one. And there wasn’t a chance in hell that Felicity would agree to go anywhere with him.

“I’m sorry, my politeness went away somewhere around the time that Queen started playing footsies with you under the table.”

Felicity snorted, and Oliver laughed, not realizing that Carter had noticed, but he wasn’t sorry for that, either. Carter Bowen was used to getting what he wanted. Oliver knew he used to be a lot like that, too, but luckily he’d  _grown_ in his life. 

To his amusement, Felicity just stared at Carter with wide, unapologetic eyes as if the answer was obvious. Which it was. “No,” she said slowly, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile, “I’m not going home with you. You can go to hell.”

Carter just rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Good luck with Queen, he’s used to my sloppy seconds.”

Oliver stood up, and Carter jumped back. He pulled on his coat jacket, trying to recover from his scared reaction. “Oliver, sit down,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes as Carter walked away.

But Oliver followed after Carter, and Tommy scrambled up, too. “Bowen,” he stopped him. “I just want you to know that if that woman wasn’t the classiest woman I’ve ever met, I’d be kicking your ass right now.” He poked his finger into his chest before turning back to the table. 

“You’re worthless, Oliver.” Carter sneered.

Oliver wheeled back around, raising his finger to him in warning with Tommy hot on his heels. “Do not push me.” He said lowly, meeting Bowen’s eyes to make sure he knew how serious he was.

As Carter stormed off, Laurel started to cheer, standing up from the table, and Felicity quickly joined in on the applause, making the surrounding tables glance from the girls to Oliver and Tommy.

They spent another hour drinking and talking before Tommy finally sighed, asking Laurel if she wanted a ride home. Oliver pinched his lips together, glancing at Felicity, who smiled at him over her drink.

After they said goodbye and his friends left, Oliver smiled at her, shaking his head. “I’m really glad I saw you tonight.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow,” she rolled her eyes. “First thing in the morning.”

“I know.” He said, meeting her eyes, “but I’m glad I saw you tonight.”

She smiled, “Yeah, well, me too. You saved me from a pretty terrible date.”

“Can I bring you home?”

Felicity nodded, “I was hoping you would offer. Carter was kind of my ride.”

Oliver breathed out a laugh, standing from the table, “Carter’s a tool.”

She rolled her eyes, taking his hand in the most natural way he’d ever felt, and he led her to the door.

Once she was in the car and he was settled behind the wheel, Felicity crawled over the console and into his lap. “Oh,” he said, his eyebrows shooting up.

He caught the smallest glimpse of her smile before she was kissing him.

Oliver gripped his knees, not about to object with the way she was rocking her hips against him. He took his time kissing her, much longer than he’d usually spend, just getting acquainted with her mouth. Then he allowed his hands to explore her body.

Her legs were smooth, and he ran his fingers down to her ankles, making her shiver like she’d been waiting for him to do exactly that, before lifting his hands to cup her face, kissing her harder.

Felicity moaned, hovering over his lap as she gently wrapped her arms around his neck. His head was groggy, so caught up in the moment that it took him a while to notice that she was whispering something… “more,” she mumbled against his lips.

Oliver groaned, sliding his hands beneath her dress and up her thighs. 

He froze when he felt the holster on her leg. It reminded him that he really didn’t need to defend her against Carter, but she’d let him anyway. She definitely didn’t need him to threaten anyone with an ass kicking, since she could probably handle it much better than he would, yet she hadn’t said a word about it or tried to stop him. “Why do you have a gun?” He asked, pulling back from her.

“Because I’m not good with knives,” she breathed quickly, pulling him back by his hair.

“You’re not even working tonight…” he said into her mouth.

“Yeah, so?”

Oliver put his hands on either side of her face, “Felicity,” he said, holding her at bay.

She huffed, “why are you stopping?”

“You have a gun on your thigh.” He laughed.

She rolled her eyes, and Oliver glanced down at her swollen lips. And then she flicked the bottom of her dress up, exposing not only her holster, but her underwear, which made Oliver’s eyes darken. Unstrapping the gun, she put it in his car console and turned back to face him. Felicity raised her empty hands, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Okay?” she asked.

Oliver groaned, “God, you’re hot.” And she giggled as he tugged on her hips, pulling her body back to his so he could kiss her again.


	44. "I'm Very Particular About What I Put in my Body" (Arrow Out of Context)

trueromantic1 asked: #6

_“I’m very particular about what I put in my body.”_

_Arrow Out of Context prompts!_

* * *

 

“Felicity and I are going out.” Sara said as she glided into the bunker.

“Going out?” Oliver asked with a frown.

Sara’s smile got wider, “Yup.”

Felicity trailed in behind her friend, sighing. Sara just rolled her eyes, putting her things away. “You said tonight should be quiet and that you and Dig could handle it if anything came up.”

Oliver hesitated, he’d given Curtis, Rene, and Dinah the night off. He’d even told Dig and Sara to go home and relax. He really was expecting the most uneventful night they’d had in weeks. But he was also looking forward to having some alone time with one babbling blonde. Which was exactly why he was so excited. He’d been picturing staying in the foundry with Felicity…maybe getting dinner and just having a chance to finally  _talk_ to her. Without bad guys interrupting, or their team constantly coming in and out, or every other priority they had to focus on since they got back.

Sara raised an eyebrow at him, “Problem, Oliver?”

He watched her for a moment, “No.” He finally said. He’d barely had five minutes alone with Felicity since they got home from Lian Yu. But they’d agreed to press pause on their… _whatever they were_ , so that Oliver could focus on William.

He’d be lying if he said he was completely happy with that decision, though. Knowing that she still cared about him, that her mind was open to the idea of being with him again, made it nearly impossible for him to stay away from her most nights. To not fantasize about all the things he thought he wouldn’t ever have back.

He finally had her in the bunker again, flirting with him instead of ignoring him. He’d see her sitting in her chair and have to fight the urge to go over to her and rub her shoulders or run his hand down her back like he wanted to.

God, he wanted to touch her again.

“Felicity and I need to meet some men.” Sara said, throwing her arm over Felicity’s shoulders. He watched as the love of his life cringed, closing her eyes while Sara smiled from ear to ear. “Or women,” she continued, “I’m still trying to persuade her on that.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at Sara, and she winked.

Felicity cleared her throat, “I’ll have my phone.” She said, “You can call me if anything comes up.” 

Oliver licked his lips, nodding at her. Sara smiled victoriously and did a little dance. “All right then, let’s go party. We’ll see you boys later.”

Felicity kept her eyes on Oliver as she slipped out from under Sara’s arm, “Let me just check a few things before we go.” She said, heading for her computers.

Oliver took the opportunity to catch Sara’s arm, pulling her off to the side and mumbling lowly, “What are you doing?”

Sara just shrugged, “We’re two single women living in the city, Oliver. She can’t spend every night holed up down here with your mopey self while you brood about bank robbers.” She gestured to Diggle, “and  _that one_ , cleaning his gun every night is just as depressing!”

Oliver frowned, “Maybe she likes being down here.”

“She likes being near you.” Sara answered bluntly. “But you’re not making her a priority right now.”

Oliver’s lips formed a thin line as he glanced down at Sara. “That’s not fair.”

She sighed, “I know. It’s not…but it doesn’t mean it’s not true. Felicity survived a psychotic mad man and an exploding island. She’s been through some shit, too, Oliver. And it’s okay that you have a lot on your plate right now. It’s understandable. But she deserves to let loose, to not sit around and wait for you to be ready.”

He closed his eyes, “I would never ask her to do that…”

Sara put her hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to, Ollie.” She looked at him sympathetically before sighing. Then she lifted her shoulder, smirking up at him, “Besides, I’m here now, and she looks like she could use a friend.”

“So do you.” He said gently.

She smiled sadly, “See? It works out.”

After the girls left, Oliver and Diggle spent a few hours training. But Oliver was distracted. He had no idea if Sara and Felicity would be coming back to the bunker or if she’d get home okay. He was constantly glancing at the clock. 

Diggle finally sighed, “Just call her.”

Oliver shot him a look, “What?”

“Felicity, man,” he said, shaking his head while he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Just call her and make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s with a time traveling ex-assassin, Diggle.” He scoffed, “I think she’s fine.”

Diggle shrugged, “Fine, don’t call her then. Stay up all night worrying.”

Oliver groaned, “It’s just…I haven’t had a chance to talk to her very much since we got back, and I don’t know…” His stomach turned at the idea that they could be on very different pages. It wasn’t that he expected her to wait for him. He just didn’t care how long  _he_ had to wait for her. Is that how she felt, though?

The possibility of her going home with someone, of not loving him like he loved her kind of had him freaking out.

John smirked, shaking his head like he knew something. “So call her.”

With a nod, Oliver headed for his phone. It didn’t take much more convincing than that. Her phone went to voicemail the first time he called, and he almost left it at that, but then he tried one more time. “Oliver?” She answered on the third ring. “is everything okay?”

Her words were slurred and he could hear loud music and voices in the background. Of course Sara had taken her to some kind of club. What was wrong with a nice, quiet bar? That prohibited anyone from going near her.  _Okay, easy there tough guy._

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s okay. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Aw,” he could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him smile too. “Yeah, I’m fine. Eric is buying me a drink.”

“Eric?” Oliver asked, feeling his heart drop a little bit.

“Uh huh,” she sang.

He cleared his throat, “Where’s Sara?”

“Uh… I’m not sure.”

“She’s not with you?” Oliver asked, trying not to sound like the overprotective boyfriend that he had no right to  _act_ like, but he somehow still  _felt_ like. 

There was something going on between them. 

It was complicated because of how they felt about each other, but it was simple because of William. 

“Um, no,” she said, and he could picture her shaking her head. 

His head finally clicked what Sara was trying to do. She was pushing him. She wanted him to define whatever it was. She wanted him to face these feelings, and probably to admit them to Felicity. The flirting, the late nights, the longing looks. All without any real conversations. They said they weren’t together, but he wanted to be. And most of the time he felt like they were. It was crazy how easy it was to fall back into that groove with her.

But it wouldn’t be fair to her. He had to remind himself of that every day. Just because he wanted to be with Felicity in the “all in” kind of sense, didn’t mean he could make that a priority right now. Yet he couldn’t ask her to wait until he could give her what she deserved. He felt like he couldn’t win. But he had a bigger problem right now. “Felicity, do you see Sara?”

He glanced at John, “she’s drunk with some guy,” he whispered.

John raised his eyebrows, “good for her.”

Oliver glared at him, “At a club, Diggle. And she lost Sara.”

His friend sighed, “Felicity,” John said loud enough for her to hear and Oliver put her on speaker phone, “What club are you at?”

“John!” Felicity yelled in excitement. “Hi!”

“Hi,” John said with a smile, “What club are you at?”

“Poison!” She answered, “Are you coming here? If you do…” She dropped her voice to a whisper, “don’t bring Oliver.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at the phone before glancing up at Dig. John just looked amused, “Why can’t I bring Oliver?”

“Because I’m drunk!” She whispered back loudly. “And I do not play well with Oliver when I’m drunk. Well, I mean, I actually play  _really_ well with him when I’m drunk, which would probably be a problem for us right now with all of these  _feelings._ Oh my god, John. I have so many feelings,” She groaned. “I just-have you seen his eyes? How do they manage to look even more gorgeous and  _blue_ -”

“Okay,” John interrupted, cutting her off. “Stay put, do you hear me?”

Oliver kicked himself for wishing he could hear more about her feelings…but they had to get to Poison. The last thing any of them wanted was Felicity alone and drunk at a bar with some stranger. “Okay!” Felicity yelled, “Can’t wait to see you, love you, bye!”

And then she hung up.

He told John that he’d handle it, and he was at Poison fifteen minutes later. To his chagrin, he spotted Felicity in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with who he assumed was Eric. Thankfully, he could see Sara, too, dancing just a few feet away.

Part of him wondered if he should just turn around and walk away. Sara had found her, and they were both okay. He really wasn’t needed there. But he knew rather quickly that his protectiveness, or more honestly, his jealousy, was too far gone to not talk to her. He had to at least hear her tell him to leave before he could.

It was also clear from her phone conversation that she didn’t want him there, but her  _reasons_ for that, her feelings for him, kind of made this the only place he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, her face dropped when she saw him approaching.  _All right, she’s not pleased._  Her hips stopped moving, and the Eric guy behind her tried to pull on her waist, getting her to move again.

She wiggled her way out of his arms, keeping her eyes on Oliver. “You’re not John.” She said when he stopped a few inches away from her.

He shook his head, staring down at her eyes that were glossy and drunk, but beautiful. “I was worried about you.”

“Ollie?” Sara asked, a knowing smirk on her lips. She crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side, “What do you think you’re doing here? What part of ‘girls’ night’ didn’t you understand?”

He gave her an annoyed glare, “Felicity couldn’t find you. You lost her.”

Sara rolled her eyes, “I was in the bathroom.” She gestured around, “When I came back, she was right where I left her. We’re okay, aren’t we?”

Felicity’s expression slipped into wide smile. She reached for his hands, and he easily let her take them. “Will you dance with me?”

Oliver watched her hesitantly. He did  _not_ dance. But he was afraid that if he said no, he’d end up back in the bunker while she danced with that Eric tool.

The guy was still standing off to the side, sizing Oliver up and waiting for Felicity to pay attention to him again. In his hesitation, Felicity rolled her eyes at him, pulling her hands away at the same time that she turned back towards Eric.

 _Yeah, not happening._ He pulled her back to him, pressing his chest against hers and watching as she giggled, grinning from ear to ear.

He shook his head in amusement. If that wasn’t the most breathtaking, sexy, adorable face he’d ever see… Felicity stepped closer, and Oliver’s eyes slipped shut. He reached for her hips, letting her move against him as her face found his neck.

“Hey,” he heard a man slur from behind Felicity, and his eyes opened to give Eric an icy stare. “You just gonna ditch me like that?” He asked.

Felicity nodded, not moving her face from Oliver’s neck. “Oliver is here,” she sighed. It was a good enough reason for her. It was an acceptable answer for him, too. By the annoyed expression that crossed Eric’s face, he did not feel the same way.

Oliver couldn’t help but smile at the relieved, comfortable tone of her voice, though. The way she nestled her face into his neck, her hands flattening on his back. As if the fact that he was there made her feel perfectly safe and relaxed.

Distracted, Oliver had assumed Eric walked away. But stupidly, he then tried reaching his hand out to touch her back.

Oliver froze, his intuition was telling him to remove the guy’s arm from his body, but his common sense was telling him to keep his cool. But then his hand gripped the back of Felicity’s shirt and he  _tugged._ Felicity gasped, instinctively squeezing closer into Oliver’s arms.

Reacting, Oliver reached over Felicity’s shoulder to free her shirt from Eric’s fingers, rearing them back violently. The guy cried out in pain, and Oliver used his disorientation to shove him in the chest, knocking him back a few paces like he was nothing.  _He was nothing._  

Waiting until the man had recovered enough to focus on him again, Oliver lifted a finger in warning, “don’t you dare touch her,” he growled. His voice low, probably inaudible over the music, but he could tell that his expression was giving the same threat, because Eric’s face dropped.

All Oliver had to do was narrow his eyes, and Eric puffed up his chest and stormed off.

Knowing that they’d been in much more dangerous situations didn’t stop him from scanning the club, keeping Felicity protectively between his arms as he did so. It didn’t really matter what they did or how many times they risked their lives for the city, it would never be normal or okay with him to see someone grabbing her like that.

He dropped his mouth to her ear, “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She said instantly, hugging him tightly.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked next. Felicity shook her head with a tiny whimper, and he smiled. “I’ll take you home, Felicity.”

“Mm-mm,” she disagreed, shaking her head and brushing her nose against his neck.

He closed his eyes, feeling her gentle breath on his skin, causing goosebumps to rise even though the club was smoldering. “If I let you take me home,” she mumbled, “then you’ll walk me to the door, and you’ll be sweet…a perfect gentleman. But I’ll be disappointed when you decline coming inside.”

Oliver let out a shaky breath, “ _Felicity_ …”

She groaned, “I love hearing you say my name like that.”

He groaned too, but his was in frustration. He had all the restraint in the world when it came to criminals that he wanted to put an arrow through, but when it came to denying this woman of whatever it was she wanted?

He was hopeless.

But there was no way that this could happen tonight. For a list of reasons. The top of which being how intoxicated she was. Taking a deep, calming breath, he forced himself to lean back enough to look down at her. She stared up at him, her eyes darting between his and down to his lips, and he suddenly regretted trying to look at her. All he saw was a familiar passion…one that they’d both been trying to mask for way too long.

Oliver licked his lips, his mind racing for something that would placate her, that would let her know how much he wanted her but how  _awful_ this timing was.

He was terrified of losing her.

Of pushing her away again.

And he really didn’t want to ruin everything in one night. “Let me take you home.” He said, giving her a pointed look. “And we can  _talk_.”

She frowned, and he wondered if they’d even end up having a conversation, or if she’d be passed out before that. He knew from experience that the more she drank, the sleepier she got. She really only had two levels of drunkenness; adorable, flirty, affectionate Felicity, and sleeping Felicity.

“What kind of talking?” She asked, “Because you and I have gotten pretty good at communicating without much need for words.” Her voice was low, and he shuttered as she bit her lip.

She was going to be the death of him.

Oliver shook his head at her, laughing slightly. And then he glanced up at Sara, who was weaving in and out the crowd, dancing her way through the people. She sensed the eyes on her, and she looked over at him. He lifted his chin, knowing she understood that it meant he was leaving, with Felicity. She nodded back, letting him know that she was coming too as she made her way towards them.

“Huh,” Felicity said, frowning as her eyebrows furrowed, “maybe it’s just a  _you_ thing.”

“What?” He asked, smiling down at her.

“Talking without words.” She said, gripping his shirt. He shook his head with a breathy laugh, realizing that she was referring to the silent understanding between him and Sara. He would hardly compare that to the wordless things he could say to Felicity when they were alone together…the things that he could understand from the way she touched him, the way she moved…

“How much have you had to drink?” He asked, analyzing her face. 

Felicity thought for a moment as Sara sidled up beside her. Oliver held a finger up to Sara, waiting as Felicity pursed her lips, “I haven’t had that much.” She said, “You know me, I’m a lightweight. I hate anything that doesn’t taste like fruit or candy.” She shrugged, glancing at Sara and giving her a friendly smile, “I’m very particular about what I put in my body.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side and remembering the words he’d once said to her. Then she grinned at him, like she was remembering too. The smile she offered him was sweet, holding all of the warmth that he associated with Felicity Smoak. 

She rolled her eyes at the surprised expression on his face, “I didn’t mean  _you_ , Oliver. I’m not particular about the ways we do  _that_ …”

He choked, his eyes flashing to Sara’s just in time to catch hers widening in shock, and then she was laughing. Sara leaned into Felicity, “Oh my god, Felicity, you’re priceless. I love you.” She said through her giggles.

Felicity seemed pleased with that, dropping her hands from Oliver’s hips. “Aw, I love you too!” She abandoned him to hug Sara back, joining in on the laughter even though he was pretty certain she had no idea what she’d said that was so funny.


	45. College Students: Part 2 (Arrow Out of Context)

trueromantic1 asked: #8

_“Excuse me! Can you help me? He’s really heavy.”_

Arrow Out of Context prompts! Sequel to chapter 42.

* * *

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about his date with Felicity. It had been perfect. Better than anything he’d fantasized about since he met her.

Oliver had wanted to call her as soon as he got home from dropping her off at her dorm, but he’d convinced himself to not be  _that_ desperate. Planning on waiting until the next day, he’d gone back to his apartment and gushed to Tommy about it like a teenage girl, telling him everything; how different it felt to connect with her on a deeper level, how incredible it was to make her laugh, how he was already looking forward to seeing her again, spending time with her.

His friend had listened to all of it with a smile on his face, not teasing him over his excitement, not even once. By the end of his rambling, Tommy had patted him on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you, brother,” he’d said. “But don’t ask her out again until Monday.”

“What?” Oliver had frowned, turning around to look at Tommy. “I already mentioned that creamery we found last summer and told her we should go. I want to see her, like, tomorrow.”

Tommy shook his head, “That’s a great idea, but wait a little while, ice cream will still be there in a few days. Bring it up again with her in class on Monday. Use it as an excuse to sit next to her and talk to her.”

Oliver had contemplated it, slightly disappointed that if he followed Tommy’s plan, he wouldn’t talk to her again for three days, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to scare her off by being too eager.

He’d slept on it, and then he hadn’t called her on Saturday. Or Sunday. He did stalk her on social media, though. All weekend. Not that she posted anything, but he pathetically checked anyway. She’d taken a picture of them together when they were on a walk after dinner, and he was half hoping she’d post it. Of course, she didn’t. It was just one date, why would she plaster his face for all of her friends to see? She hadn’t texted or called him either, which…part of him had also been hoping for.

When Monday morning finally comes, Oliver’s ready for class an hour early, a plan in his mind, ready to be acted on. Tommy was rolling out of bed and into the kitchen as Oliver’s putting his shoes on. 

His roommate snorts, shaking his head as he walks to the coffee pot in the kitchen. “You’re hopeless, Queen.”

Oliver just smiles, “I don’t even care, Merlyn. See you in class!” He calls as he shuts the door behind him.

It was a short drive to the coffee shop, just off-campus. There  _was_ one on-campus, right next to the building Felicity lived in, but luckily for him, coffee had come up in conversation during their date, and she’d said she hated the coffee there. So he knew not to stop there.

After ordering both of them coffees, he hurries to her dorm, knowing that she likes to get to class early, and she could be leaving soon. There’s still forty minutes until class, but she’d also told him how much she enjoys walking to class. How long would it take her to get there? Did she leave already? Maybe he should have left sooner.

Once he’s parked in front of her building, he jogs with the coffees in his hands to catch up to a girl walking inside ahead of him. She gives him a strange look over her shoulder until he offers a smile, and then she blushes. “Hi, could you point me in the direction of Felicity Smoak’s room?” He asks, lifting the coffees.

The girl bites her lip, “She’s on the second floor. Right side, end of the hall, I think. You’re not like, a creep or anything are you?” She raises an eyebrow, holding the door open for him so he can walk in with the cups in hand.

He chuckles, “No. I’m…a friend of hers.”

The girl shrugs, heading off in another direction.

Oliver’s feet move towards the stairs, his heart beginning to race as he makes his way up the stairs. Her name is on her door, written on a paper flower just like her roommate Sara’s.

He freezes in front of the door. What if she thinks he’s a creep, like the girl had suggested, for coming here? For finding her room and showing up on a Monday morning? He’d gone over the plan in his mind all weekend, but maybe he should have talked it through with Tommy. 

It had seemed sweet when he thought of it, but maybe she’d be freaked out.

He can still bail. Wait for her outside the auditorium with the coffee, or save her a seat… Holding his breath and feeling his hands start to shake, Oliver quickly turns back for the stairs. Just as he’s pushing the door to the stairwell open, he hears her door swing open. “Excuse me!” She calls out to him, “Can you help me? He’s  _really_ heavy.”

Oliver turns around slowly, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes Felicity in. She stands in her doorway wearing plaid pajama shorts and a purple tank top. Her hair is loose and wild from sleep, he  _hoped_ , falling over her shoulders in wild waves. She doesn’t have her glasses on, and her eyes are still sleepy. She looks adorable.

He notices all of those things, but his attention is mainly focused on the man leaning on the other side of the doorway, his arm draped over Felicity’s shoulders. She’s trying to hold him up.

As she steadies the guy, Felicity’s eyes glance up at him, and they widen. “Oliver?” she cries, her face dropping. “What are you doing here?”

Feeling just as uncomfortable as she looks, he steps back into the hallway, letting the stairwell door close behind him and lifting the coffee cups as an answer. “I just thought…”

She squeezes her eyes shut, “this is…not what it looks like.” She grumbles, adjusting the guy as he groans at her, trying to get back into her room. She blocks him, but he’s clearly not enjoying being kicked out of her room, half asleep and definitely still a little drunk.

Oliver clears his throat, setting the cups on the floor and going to her door to help her drag the half conscious, groaning man into the hall. “What are you doing with him?” He asks

“Nothing. We finished working on a group project last night, and we all decided to go out for drinks. Ray had a few too many, and my roommate, Sara, is gone until tonight, so I let him crash on her bed. I didn’t want him driving home…”

“Um…I meant…where are you  _bringing_ him?”

“Oh,” she says, her voice rising as she looks at him from the other side of Ray. He had to admit though, he was happy to hear that explanation. “Right. I was going to leave him out here.”

“In the hallway?”

“Yup.”

Oliver lets out a breath as Felicity lowers him gently to the floor. “Are you sure…”

She purses her lips. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. Sara doesn’t like anyone being in our room while she’s not here, but the girls next door eventually come out and give him some coffee, and send him on his way home.”

“Okay,” Oliver says, offering her an awkward smile. He glances down at Ray as the man sighs, curling up on the floor and falling back asleep. He looks perfectly comfortable there. Well…

“Speaking of coffee,” she says, biting her lip and pointing to the cups he’d left on the floor.

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver responds, turning to pick them up. “This is for you. I’m sorry…I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to come here unannounced like this…”

She smiles at him, her eyes hot on his, making his breath catch in his throat. The look is brazen, flirty, as her fingers brush against his, taking the cup from him. “I’m glad you did.” She says, “I was kind of worried when you didn’t call.”

Despite how sexy that look had just been, her face falls slightly, her eyes dropping to her cup as she pulls back the plastic. Oliver clenches his jaw, cursing Tommy’s name. “I was told that girls liked it if you waited a few days.” He mumbles. 

He’d dated plenty of girls, he just never cared about calling after. If he felt like it, he’d call if and when he wanted to see them again. He’d never been  _anxious_ over it, though.

She narrows her eyes up at him, “Did Tommy tell you that?”

He laughs, nodding his head, “Yes. Yes, he did. Was he wrong?”

Felicity nods too, resting her back against her door. “Yes. Yes, he was. Very wrong.”

“Well, he actually told me to wait until Diggle’s class today, but I came up with a plan to see you sooner.” He says, raising his coffee to her.

Felicity grins, any trace of being upset that he hadn’t called is gone. 

His breath feels tight as he realizes how easy she is to please. Their whole date had been the same way. She’d been nervous, but she was sweet, blushing at every compliment he’d offered and grinning like she was now, just happy to be there with him. It was enthralling. This woman had his full attention, and he wasn’t going to miss a moment of her.

“A plan that involves coffee, too.” She smiles, and he smiles back. “Man after my heart.” She mumbles, her eyes dancing across his face.

“Maybe I am…kind of…a little bit.” He whispers. 

She’s leaning against the door, and Oliver can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks. Her shoulders are bare and tan in the sunlight coming into the hallway, her hair is glowing and curly. Her face is fresh, her eyes bright, and her lips a natural, gorgeous shade of pink. His eyes focus on her mouth for a moment too long, and she notices, biting her lip nervously.

Kissing her in the hallway of her college dorm with a random guy sleeping on the floor a few feet away isn’t ideal, and if she didn’t look so perfect, he probably would have been able to stop himself from stepping closer. But she nods her head once, the movement so slight that he hardly notices, but it’s as if she understands the look on his face, and he can’t help but gravitate towards her.

He’s only a foot away when her face drops. “Class!” She cries.

Shoving her door open, she hurries in, her arm flying out to grab his hand and pull him inside. She pushes him onto her bed in the same movement that she sets her coffee on her desk.

Oliver huffs, watching as she rushes around her room, throwing her books into her bag. They still have twenty minutes before Diggle’s class starts, but he’s pretty sure that she’s used to sitting in class at least fifteen minutes early.

He knows that as long as she gets dressed in the next seven minutes, they have plenty of time to get to class on time. Besides, from what he’d heard from his peers, Diggle doesn’t care if you’re a few minutes late. He’d already planned on using that information to his advantage this semester.

“Felicity, I have my car right outside, we can make it.”

She lets out a relieved breath, but doesn’t slow down at all as she throws a sweater over her tank top. And then she rips her shorts down her waist, and he catches an unintentional glimpse of her green underwear before he slams his eyes shut. “Woah!”

He counts to twenty, and then he opens his eyes. She has her jeans on, and she’s pulling her bag over her shoulder while she looks at him curiously. “Do all women in their underwear get that reaction, or just me?”

Oliver raises an eyebrow at her. “Just you,” he answers. He picks up her coffee and hands it to her, gesturing for the door.

She steps over Ray as she heads for the stairs, and he follows right behind, locking her door behind him. “Why is that?” She asks as she jogs down the steps in front of him.

“Why is what?”

“Why am I the only girl that has you closing your eyes and yelling at the sight of me without pants on?”

He glances down at her as they leave the building and walk quickly to his car. Is she really asking that? “Because when I see you without your pants on, it’s going to be because you want me to, not because you’re rushing to get ready for class. Seeing you without your clothes on is going to mean something, Felicity.”

She raises an eyebrow at him as he opens the door for her. And she’s staring at him as he settles behind the wheel and pulls away from the curb. Once they’re moving, he looks back at her. “What? Is that bad thing?”

“No. Not bad.” She says, shaking her head. “Just surprising.”

“Why?” he asks quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

Felicity continues to watch him, her eyes analyzing, and he can see that she’s trying to figure out if he’s trustworthy. He relaxes under the scrutiny, knowing that he is. Knowing how much he likes her, how he could easily fall in love with her if she gives him the chance. “Because you don’t typically do…I mean, I didn’t know that Oliver Queen…did that. That you…waited for it to mean something, you know…?”

He gives her a look as if she’s crazy for not seeing it, for not seeing why he cares, why it’s different because it’s  _her_ , and she laughs once. “I don’t typically show up at a girl’s door on a Monday morning, either. And I usually don’t get nervous asking her out. And I  _definitely_ don’t notice the freckle on her wrist. But it’s you. And you’re different.” He finishes obviously, as if that explains everything. And it does, to him.

Pulling into the parking lot, Oliver finds a spot close to the door, glancing at her as she looks out the windshield, chewing on her lip. “Why am I different?” She blurts.

Oliver hesitates with his hand on the door. He glances at the clock, “Do you want an answer right now, or do you want to be on time for class?”

Her eyebrows furrow, and he watches as she genuinely considers it. He breathes out a laugh at her concentration, waiting. “I want an answer now.” She says with a nod.

He leans back in his seat, turning his body so he can look at her, so that she knows she has his full attention. He doesn’t give a damn about being late if she doesn’t. “You don’t put up with my shit, Felicity. You’ve always seen me for who I am, ever since we met. And I can’t hide behind any kind of front, or facade, or…or  _charm_ when I talk to you. I can just be myself.”

She ponders his words for a moment, playing with her fingers. And then she looks up at him through her lashes, and his hand instinctively reaches for her, to tuck her hair behind her ear so he can see her face. He laughs under his breath, “there’s also that,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he lets his hand slide to her cheek. Her skin is smooth and warm beneath his palm, the bottom of his thumb barely grazing the corner of her mouth.

Felicity closes her eyes. “There’s what?” She whispers.

He watches her for a long moment, taking in every feature of her gorgeous face as it flushes, her chest rising and falling a little faster than before. “You looked up at me just now…and I knew I needed to touch you. I get that urge all the time, Felicity. To feel you somehow. I’ve honestly never felt like that before.”

She turns her cheek into his palm more, nestling it as she lets out a soft groan. “How are we going to survive a class about Human Sexuality together?”

Oliver grins, “If the first class was any indication, it’ll be amazing. I got a date with you because of it. I’m sitting here with you now…and you look way too pretty for it to be fair.” She giggles, much to his enchantment, reminding him again how easy it is to please her, and how good it feels to do it. How right. “ _And_ you don’t even care about being late to class. My mind is blown that you’d rather sit in my car right now. Seriously, are you going to explode because of this? Because we’re going to be at least five minutes late.”

Felicity shakes her head, slapping him gently on the chest. He catches her hand, looking down at the way her fingers look tangled in his. “And you think I’m not charmed by you,” she says quietly, her eyes flickering towards the building.

He waits for her to look at him again, and when she does, he speaks lowly, seriously, keeping his eyes trained on hers. “To answer your question, the difference with you, Felicity…is that I’m not playing games with you. I want  _you_.”

She takes in a shaky breath, her wide blue eyes darting between his. He stares at her with complete honesty, wanting her to see how much he means it. That she can trust him, despite his reputation. “That was…a pretty good answer.”

“I told you we’d be late to class if you wanted me to answer that question.” He says with a smile.

They’d cleared the air the other night, about their missed chance at a first date. But he knew it had hurt her, and he vowed to himself to always be honest with her, to not hide his feelings. He wants her to see how she makes him feel now.

“Class,” she whispers. “We should…we should get to class.”

He nods, opening his door without another word. He’s rounding the car as she gets out, and he holds his hand out for her. Felicity glances down at his offer,  adjusting her bag on her shoulder. And then she smiles, slipping her fingers through his as if she’d done it a million times. As if they belong there.

She walks beside him into the building, and he feels like he’s on top of the world. Unable to resist, Oliver lifts her fingers to his mouth before he opens the door for her, bringing a fresh blush to her cheeks and a shy smile to her lips just as she walked into the room.

“Ms. Smoak…Mr. Queen. It’s nice of you to join us.” Diggle says and every eye in the room turns to look at them.

Felicity’s reaction is to pale, dropping his hand like it’s on fire as she steps away from him. “Sorry, Professor Diggle,” she says, putting her head down and hurrying for a chair in the front row.

Diggle’s smile is knowing, almost cocky, unsurprised as if he expected to see this on his Monday morning. Oliver stares at Felicity for a moment as she quickly gets her notebook out. Half of him is amused, the other half is wondering if her reaction, her embarrassment, means that he should find a seat somewhere away from her.

“Mr. Queen,” Diggle says, “sit down anytime you’re ready…if you don’t mind.” He hears the chuckles from around the room, and he gives Tommy a glance before looking back to Felicity. 

She looks up at him, raising her eyebrows, her eyes darting from him to the empty chair beside her, telling him to sit down.  _Now_. He smiles, walking to take the seat.

Professor Diggle claps his hands together, “Okay, I’ll collect your journals at the end of class, but I won’t be reading them. They’re for you. I want you to truly use them to reflect on your thoughts, so I’ll just be checking to make sure you’re doing the assignments. But I wanted to ask you all something. You don’t have to share the things you wrote, but can anyone tell me what it was like to write the list? Did you find it challenging? Strange? What was your process like?”

As the students raise their hands, sharing how weird and eye opening it felt to compile a list of what they found attractive, telling different stories about how they chose to answer the prompt, their experience while making it, Oliver watches Felicity. She fidgets in her chair, her head twisting to look at whoever is talking.

And she always smiles. Her classmates have her full attention, and she genuinely seems to care about their answers. 

She’s very active in the conversation, but she doesn’t raise her hand. Oliver smiles, trying to listen like she is. But he can’t stop watching her, shaking his head slightly at how cute she is. Especially when she laughs at something Tommy’s saying while he winks at the girl sitting in front of him. He catches Felicity’s cheeks turning pink just as the girl’s do, feeling some kind of secondhand embarrassment for her, he guesses.

“What about you, Mr. Queen?” Diggle asks, “I’ve been interested to hear how the assignment went for you, after our last class.”

Oliver sighs, “I thought it was pretty easy, actually.” He answers. He glances back at Felicity in an extremely obvious way, “I know what I like.” He finishes softly, his eyes trained on her like no one else is in the room.

Felicity cocks her head to the side, and a slow smile spreads across her face. He expects her to be embarrassed by the transparent implication, but she leans towards him, “are you saying you wrote about me?” She asks in a whisper, raising an eyebrow.

He leans towards her, too, surprised that she’s able to ignore the classroom full of students. “What if I did?” He whispers back.

Her eyes dart between his, her face just a few inches away. “Well then I want to read it.” She smiles crookedly, her eyes dancing with his as if they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of are, the moment is unexpectedly intimate in the middle of their crowded class. “Please?” Her expression is alluring, and he’s sure that she knows what she’s doing to him, but he can’t look away.

Oliver purses his lips, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

Felicity grins at him, her eyes spark with a challenge. She knows that she has him wrapped around he finger. She definitely knows, and he can’t bring himself to care. 

Her confidence intrigues him. He’s used to the sweet, shy girl that babbles and hides her head, but he can see it in her eyes. Knowing that he wrote his list about her sparks something new in her, something confident. Sultry. It’s sexy as all hell. And now he has something else to add to his list.

And then she turns her head back to Professor Diggle, who had moved on in his lecture once they’d started whispering, allowing them to fall into their own little world like the coolest Professor ever. “I think you’ll show me,” she whispers, leaning towards him one more time, “eventually.”

Felicity lifts her pen to her mouth as she turns to pay attention to Diggle, her eyes narrowing in concentration, but he can tell by the faint smile on her lips that she knows he’s still staring at her. Still fascinated. And in the cutest, hottest move she could possibly do, she pulls her sleeve up, exposing the freckle on her wrist and making him chuckle under his breath.

Damn, she’s  _everything_. Besides, if things with her end the way he’s already hoping they will, then she’s right. Eventually, she’ll come to understand every single thing he’d put on his list. He’ll tell her, or show her, all of it. She’ll know everything that he finds irresistible about her, and she’ll know how much he adores all of it. And he’ll continue to find new things every day for a very, very long time.


	46. "Afraid of a Tiny Needle" (Arrow Out of Context)

anonymous asked: Im say #11 if you havent.. but change the rough ganger to arrow maybe? Leather wearing hero lol

_“Don’t tell me a tough gang banger like yourself is afraid of a tiny little needle.”  
_

_“It doesn’t look so tiny.”_

Arrow Out of Context prompts!

This is going to be the last prompt I write from season one! Thank you to everyone who sent them in, and I’m sorry if I didn’t get to yours, but I’ll be doing another Arrow Out of Context list for season two quotes, so look out for it! (I'm smoaking-greenarrow on tumblr!)

* * *

 

Brownie sundaes and building remote controlled airplanes. 

That was what Oliver was missing at home. Felicity had texted him earlier, asking when he’d be home and telling him that William wanted to finish his plane and fly it on the roof tonight. When he’d responded that he would probably be late, she’d teased him with the promise of brownies.

He sighed as he glanced through the last stack of paperwork he had to finish. Scrubbing his hands across his face, he glanced out of the window in his office. He was already trying to get home as fast as he could, but knowing what his family was up to only made him work faster. He had a son and a wife, two things that he’d always been afraid of dreaming about. And he just wanted to get home to them.

His phone started to ring, Felicity’s face popping up on his screen, and his heart sped up at the idea of hearing her voice. He’d had an awful day, and he’d barely even had a chance to kiss her this morning before she was rushing off to work, but he ignored the call with a groan. He still had at least an hour’s worth of work to do, and he knew she wouldn’t be very happy about that.

With new resolve, he straightened his back, focusing his eyes back to the documents in front of him.

He would call her on his way home, giving himself something extra to look forward to. 

They lived together and saw each other every day, but he  _loved_ talking to her on the phone. Her voice would always rise with excitement, as if she hadn’t spoken to him in days rather than hours, as if she wouldn’t see him later that night when they got home. And she’d babble on about whatever she was doing. It always put him in a better mood, to realize how long she could talk to him, how she told him everything and knew that he wanted to hear all of it, whether it was a funny story about her morning at work, or asking in a hushed tone about their evening plans. It never got old.

After another ten minutes, his phone started ringing again, and he frowned, seeing her face on the screen. If he didn’t answer, she usually just waited until he had a chance to call her back, knowing that he’d get back to her when he could. 

Worry dropped into his stomach, and he answered it this time. “Felicity?”

“It’s William.”

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” He asked, his heart sinking at the tense tone of his son’s voice.

“Uh, it’s Felicity…” he sighed, “Mr. Diggle just got here to pick us up, we’re taking her to the hospital.”

“I’m okay, honey!” He heard Felicity’s voice call in the background.

Despite her words, Oliver felt his breath catch in his throat, more anxious about his son’s mention of a hospital. He stood up, pulling his coat off of the back of his chair, “What happened?” He asked, already leaving, the paperwork forgotten on his desk.

“The airplane kind of exploded? I don’t know dad, it was up in the air, and then it was just flying everywhere.” William said, his voice holding a level of disbelief. “A piece of the metal hit Felicity in the arm.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” his son answered, “I’m okay. We’re on our way to the hospital now.”

“Go home, Oliver!” He heard his wife yell, “Take a shower, relax, and we’ll see you when we get back.”

He rolled his eyes. Like hell. “I’ll meet you in the emergency room.” He grumbled to William, ignoring her.

Oliver knew that his son’s remote airplane exploding wasn’t his fault, or William’s, or Felicity’s. But he didn’t like the images in his head as he imagined what happened. She was okay enough to be telling him what to do, so he also knew that he didn’t have any reason to freak out. But he was anyway.

He also felt a familiar pang of guilt knotting his stomach. He couldn’t help but blame himself for not answering her call the first time. They’d had to call Dig for a ride, and he could tell by the tone of his voice that the whole thing had scared William.

It also made him wonder how bad it actually was. Felicity was a pro at staying calm when she needed to, and he was worried that she was keeping it together for his son’s sake. Metal falling from the sky and hitting her in the arm couldn’t be good under any circumstance.

When he got to the hospital, Felicity was already being seen by a nurse, and he was led to her room. Opening the door, Dig and William stepped back, giving him a view of Felicity. She smiled uncomfortably at him, wiggling her fingers, on the arm that wasn’t wrapped in white gauze.

He let out a breath of relief as he looked down at her, her face apologetic and slightly embarrassed, and he shook his head immediately. She had nothing to feel bad about. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Felicity nodded, closing her eyes as he came closer and cupped her cheek. Like always, he reveled in the way she leaned into his touch. Then he turned his head towards his son, “And you’re all right?”

“Yeah dad, I’m fine.”

He could tell that William felt bad, but he wasn’t sure if it was guilt over something or if he was just worried about Felicity. Knowing that his son was a lot like him, it was probably a little bit of both. They’d be talking about  _that_ later.

Oliver’s gaze shifted to his best friend, “Thank you for bringing them.”

“Of course, Oliver,” Dig replied, “You know I’m always here for all of you.”

He nodded with a slight sigh, turning his attention back to his wife. He glanced over her arm, the bandages tainted with dull blood. He looked over the rest of her body, not seeing any other scratches. She narrowed her eyes at him, “I know that face. Oliver Jonas Queen…don’t even,” she said, dropping her head onto the pillows.

Seeing that he’d upset her, Oliver forced a smile, focusing on making sure his face gave nothing away. But she glared, already aware of his feelings. She saw through him like no one else could. 

“What is it?” William asked, stepping closer.

Felicity’s jaw was tight as she glanced at the boy, “Your dad thinks this is his fault somehow. I thought you were getting better about this,” she said, reaching up to his hand on her face, locking her fingers in his. “Please, tell me how a faulty toy plane is your fault.”

“It isn’t,” he said, clearing her throat and glancing away from her. “Not answering the phone the first time you called me was a choice, though.”

“Oliver, please.” She sighed, “How many times have you called me on your lunch break, and I’ve ignored it because I was busy? And you’ve ignored plenty of my calls before, too.” She shrugged, “it happens. You couldn’t have known.”

He just nodded, knowing that she was right but still feeling guilty for it. He couldn’t help it. She brought their hands away from her face, keeping his fingers twisted with hers, her injured arm resting on her stomach. He smiled down at her, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’ll have a new scar.” She said, “A different story than getting shot, at least.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed, and she gave him an apologetic smile, “Okay, not a good joke. But it’s fine, Oliver. The doctor should be back any minute.”

“Did they give you anything for the pain?”

“Just a painkiller. Not nearly as effective as John’s aspirins though.” She grinned.

Diggle laughed from behind them, “She wanted to go to the bunker, have me stitch her up.”

Oliver frowned, “Well how are we supposed to sue that stupid airplane manufacturer if we don’t have the medical records to prove your injury?” He asked.

Felicity rolled her eyes as John chuckled again. “That’s what Dig said, too.” She mumbled, pouting up at her partners. They both smiled down at her, remembering her refusal to go to the hospital years ago, insisting that one of them patch her up. Sara had volunteered, but Oliver would never forget how adorable she’d been, high on “John’s aspirins.”

“Mrs. Smoak?” The doctor came in, smiling at her. “I heard you had a bit of a freak accident with a control airplane?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

She huffed out a laugh, “My step-son and I were…yeah, it kind of blew up. But it wasn’t our fault. Trust me, if you knew me, you’d know that technology hardly  _ever_ fails me…but this just,” her eyes widened as she lifted her hands, “boom!”

And then she flinched, reaching for her arm. Oliver frowned, “okay?”

“Yeah,” she groaned, “just…stitches?”

“Excuse me,” the doctor said to Oliver, moving to Felicity’s side. 

As Oliver moved out of the way, the doctor took his place, “You’ll definitely need some,” he answered, “but tell me where it hurts,” he said, pushing on her arm, asking about her levels pain. 

And then he moved on to her fingers, tapping on them and making sure she still had feeling in them. “I don’t think you’ve hurt anything major,” he said, “your muscles still seem fully functional, but I’ll leave the wrap on until it’s time to stitch you up, and I’ll get a better look when it’s time to take it off. Sound good?” He asked, and Felicity nodded.

“When will you be giving her stitches?” Diggle asked.

“Just a couple more minutes, I’ll give her an anesthetic first to numb her arm, and then I’ll do the sutures.”

He smiled at Felicity before he left, and once he was gone, she sighed in relief, leaning back and closing her eyes. Oliver stood beside her bed, gripping her hand between his. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little lightheaded.” She said, “I wanted to pass out when it happened and I saw all the blood,” she said, her mouth turning down in disgust, “but adrenaline did its job. Thinking about stitches, though…”

“You’ll be okay,” Oliver mumbled, leaning down to kiss her hair, and she tried to smile, but he noticed how pale she was. “Felicity,” he said, “You’ve done sutures  _on_ me.”

“Yeah but this is  _my_ body.”

He breathed out a laugh, “you’ve had stitches on your own body.” He said, not exactly pleased with the reminder, but he knew her body as well as his own. He could picture the scar on her shoulder now, and the ones from Darhk’s attack.

Felicity twisted her fingers in his, pulling him down to sit on the edge of her bed. “I was high as a kite the first time, and I couldn’t see it. And I was unconscious for the others. This time it’ll be like, right there…” she said, looking down at her arm, her eyes widening.

Oliver smiled at her, shaking his head, “I’ll be right here.”

As the doctor came back in, Diggle offered to take William to the cafeteria, giving them some room.

Once the anesthetic took over, Felicity watched as he unwrapped her arm. “Huh,” she said shrugging, “it feels weird.” The doctor nodded from beside her, telling her that it was normal for the rest of her body to feel a little off. 

“It hurts?” Oliver asked, standing behind the doctor. As she moved her arm, she exposed the bottom of her shirt, and it was covered in blood that he didn’t noticed before. His stomach lurched, not because he hadn’t seen more than his fair share of blood, but because he knew it was  _hers_.

She shook her head, “No, I’m fine.” She glanced up at her husband, who was anxiously pacing behind the doctor. She cocked her head to the side, “Honey,” she said with a laugh as the doctor started her sutures, “I’m okay.”

Oliver just glanced up at her, his eyes trying to mask his concern.

The doctor chuckled, still watching what he was doing as he said, “You’d be surprised how many boyfriends I’ve seen get worked up over their  significant other’s injuries. I can always feel their tension radiating over my shoulder like I can feel yours, Mr. Queen. I promise, Felicity is going to be just fine. Nothing more than a scar.”

“I’m her husband.” Oliver breathed, his eyes focused on Felicity.

She was surprised to see the color draining from his face, “Yes, you are. Now sit,” she mumbled, shaking her head at him, her eyebrows furrowing. 

She knew that he wasn’t like most husbands. Injuries and scars were as familiar to him as his own body. Literally. He knew better than anyone that this was nothing. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, but she was going to be fine. Wasn’t he just saying that himself? But he stared at the stitches, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration, his knuckles white as he clenched his hands together.

When the doctor finally finished, Oliver’s breath of relief was bigger than Felicity’s, making her laugh. The doctor told he she was a perfect patient, and then he patted Oliver on the shoulder as he walked by, “You’re a good husband. Make sure she keeps those bandages on and doesn’t do anything too strenuous that could rip them.” He gave Felicity a serious look, warning her, too. “And be careful with those planes.”

She nodded, “Yes, sir.”

The door closed behind him, and Oliver sank onto the bed. Felicity shook her head and giggled as Oliver leaned over her, his face hovering above hers before he planted kisses all over her cheek, jaw, and forehead. “Oliver,” she finally protested, pulling back from him.

“Why was that one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch? You weren’t even acting like it hurt!” He laughed incredulously. “What’s wrong with me? I’ve gone soft.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Don’t tell me a brooding vigilante like yourself is afraid of a tiny little needle.”

“It doesn’t look so tiny.” He mumbled back under his breath, glancing down at her fresh bandages.

His wife just tilted her chin up at him, “Well, maybe you just really love me.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “Of course I do, that’s nothing new.”

She grinned, “I think it’s sweet you were so worried. Definitely getting some husband points for all the concern.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss her lips. “You know…” he mumbled against her mouth, “certain things are going to be hard to do with you having a hurt arm.”

She groaned, lifting her good hand to grip his hair, keeping his lips on hers. “That just means you’re going to have to get creative,” she whispered.

“Mmm,” he sighed, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, “I’m up for that challenge.”


	47. "Is That Judgment I'm Hearing?" (Arrow Out of Context)

_foreverfelicityqueen asked: number 7_

Arrow Out of Context [Part 2!](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/tagged/arrow-out-of-context-season-2)

 

_“Is that judgement I’m hearing?”  
_

_“Pride.”_

* * *

 

“You have Queen coming in at 2:00, don’t you?”

Felicity glanced up at her coworker, “Yeah,” she grunted, “Just getting a little aggression out before I have to deal with…that.”

“I told you he was a handful.”

“Paul,” Felicity sighed, “we’ve been working together for five years, we both know what a handful is. Oliver Queen is…something else entirely.”

“And what would that be, Ms. Smoak?”

Felicity and Paul both spun around as Oliver waltzed into the room, dropping his gym bag onto the floor. “Um,” she hesitated, glancing at Paul, who just made a face at her and scurried back over to the reception area. “You’re persistent, Mr. Queen.” She said, planting her feet and crossing her arms, “But you’re also…kind of scary.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows as she scrunched her nose. “I scare you, Felicity?”

“No,” she quickly replied, shaking her head, “a little. Sometimes.”

He nodded slowly, “well, why don’t we just get started then, so I can get out of your hair.”

“Oliver…that’s not what I-”

“What are we starting with?”

Felicity sighed, her face flashing with guilt. “Stretch first, then we can do a few exercises.” He nodded, sitting down on the mats and stretching his arms. She sat down in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “May I?” she asked, reaching for his shoulder. She started pushing on different areas of his arm, and he couldn’t stop the way his body relaxed under her touch. “Okay?” She mumbled, noticing his sigh but keeping her eyes focused on his arm.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, his feelings for her were a war within his own mind. And he needed to get a grip. “It just…hurts a little.”

She raised her eyebrow again, which he was realizing was her favorite form of silent judgement. “A torn rotator cuff usually hurts more than  _a little,_ Oliver.”

“I heal quickly,” he gritted out, flinching when she pushed her fingers against his muscles, causing his fist to clench in response. 

She frowned, glancing down at his hand. She never missed a damn thing, and Diggle had said she was the best. He’d learned over the past few months that she really was. “Not this time, Oliver. That’s why you’re here. And you’re not going to get any better if you don’t let me help you.”

“I am letting you help me,” he argued under his breath, contradicting it as he leaned away from her hands. She was always so gentle, healing more than just his hurt muscles…healing something deeper. But that was crazy. She was just doing her job, and he was a lonely, broken man who didn’t want to admit how much he craved someone like her.

Felicity crossed her arms with a sigh. “You never told me what happened. Maybe I could help you better if I knew how you hurt yourself.”

Oliver let out a frustrated breath as he looked at her. He couldn’t exactly tell his physical therapist that he’d been chasing a man across rooftops as the city’s vigilante when he’d fallen from a fire escape. The ladder he’d been holding on to had snapped, and he’d taken a hard hit.  _And_ the bad guy got away, which only made this whole situation even worse.

Pain killers had worked for a couple of weeks, but the pain only got worse. So Diggle had pulled some strings and gotten him a physical therapist to help. It was supposed to be some kind of “no questions asked” favor that someone owed Dig, but obviously Felicity was a bit too curious, and stubborn, for that.

Oliver had been fighting it every step of the way; taking every opportunity he had to tell Diggle how pointless the whole idea was. But he came here every week anyway…and Dig’s theory about  _why_ that was was stuck in his head.  _“You like her, man,”_  he’d said with a smug smile three nights ago,  _“you have a crush on Felicity Smoak.”_ Oliver’s response to that was to glare at him, grab his bow, and silently stomp out of the warehouse to hit the streets. 

“Okay,” she said gently, moving to stand up. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. But maybe you should look for a different therapist, Oliver. It doesn’t really feel like I’m the best fit for you.”

His eyes narrowed, his heart race picking up at the thought of not seeing her every week. “I fell. What else do you need to know?”

She held her arms out, “am I even helping you?” She asked, looking down at him. “Because you really don’t seem like you even  _want_ my help, Oliver. I don’t know who the hell could force someone like you to show up here every week, but you clearly don’t want to do any of this,” she said, gesturing to the equipment. “So maybe you need to find a therapist that you actually want to listen to.”

Oliver stood up, too. “I listen to you,” he mumbled. “I’m listening to you right now.”

“I have to fight you every week!” She yelled at him in a hushed tone. Oliver pursed his lips, knowing that she was right. “I can get you an appointment with Paul for tomorrow, or there’s another Physical Therapy center on Park Avenue.”

He reacted as soon as she turned to leave, catching her arm. “Wait, Felicity. I know that I can be…difficult. But I…I like coming here. I like seeing you, even if I don’t have the best way of showing it. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Well… _she_ was kind of the reason…He and Diggle both knew full well that he would have given up on this after one week if he’d had anyone else as his therapist. But it was helping, and he  _liked_ her.

His hand stayed on her arm, and she made no move to change that. Actually, she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at him, trying to read him. “Really?”

“Yes,” he breathed, surprised with himself for admitting it. Out loud. To her. The smile that spread across her face made his heart heavy. The way her eyes sparked as she looked up at him made him feel  _guilty_ …

He could  _not_ let this girl get wrapped up in his life. Oliver cleared his throat, removing his hand. Spending two hours, once a week, grumbling at her while she tried to help him was one thing. That smile was something else. Something he didn’t deserve. “So, should we get started?”

As Felicity walked him through his exercises, Oliver did his best not to snap, growl, or yell. And he had the pleasure of watching her walls come down thanks to it. It was incredible to see. He’d only been getting the reserved version of her smile, the tame version of her laugh, but it was amazing how much she came out of her shell when he wasn’t being a  _total_ douche. Hearing her babble made him even more intrigued by her, yet uneasy at the same time.

He couldn’t let himself get too close.

The unrestrained, pure, beautiful energy she gave off was only further proof of that.

He shouldn’t be anywhere near this woman.

She was such an opposite from him that he didn’t even want to think about how his darkness might affect the gorgeous light that she was. “You know…” she said as she laid on the mat beside him after their workout. “you’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever worked with. You really don’t know when to quit.”

He dropped his head to the side as he caught his breath, looking at her profile until she turned her head, too. He quirked an eyebrow, “is that judgement I’m hearing?”

She smirked at him. “Pride.”

Oliver glanced back up at the ceiling. He’d hardly had anyone tell him that they were proud of him. His playboy habits were less than satisfactory for his parents, and everything that happened to him since his father’s boat went down was  _less_ than something to be proud of.

It surprised him to not just hear the sentiment, but to have it coming from a woman who barely knew him. He stood up, offering his hand to help her to her feet, using his good arm to pull her up.

She could feel the change, the tension that her one word had brought him, and she was fidgeting as soon as she got up. “I’m sorry…did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “No, no. I’ve just got to get going. I’ll see you next week.”

“Oliver-” she stopped him. “I know that it’s hard for you…it doesn’t take a genius to see that you don’t exactly have the best coping skills. But I’m here to listen…if you need that, or you want it, I mean if you could use a friend, or anything.” She let out a breath, looking like she was trying to compose herself, “I get it.” She said with a nod, looking up at him, “That pain. I understand how you feel-”

“You don’t know the first thing about my pain.” He snapped, surprising both of them with the tone that had been missing for the past two hours. It was low and menacing, more like the way he spoke to criminals than he’d ever spoken to her. The thing was that he wasn’t insulted by what she’d said…it just scared him, to think that this woman wanted to hear about his pain, wanted to get to know him. He  _couldn’t_.

Felicity’s mouth hung open, but then she closed it, blinking as she glanced away from him. “Right…” she breathed, not looking at him as she backed up. “I’m sorry. Of course not.”

He was thrown by the way her face dropped…how hurt she looked. He knew he’d been unfairly harsh with his words, but she looked crushed. 

Were those  _tears_?

“Felicity…” he blinked, stepping towards her, but she was already walking away, shaking her head at him. 

Sighing, Oliver picked up his bag, heading for the door as he kicked himself for ruining such a great day. Spending time with her was usually the highlight of his week, but today had been different. John was right. He liked her. Much more than he had any right to. It was probably for the best if she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

“Hey, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver turned, giving his attention to the man at the desk. “Yes?” He asked, trying not to snap at this guy too, to take out his left over anger on him. “Paul, right? Felicity’s partner?”

“Yeah,” he said, clapping his hands together and leaning over the desk. “And friend. And…you’re an asshole.”

Oliver hesitated, his eyebrows shooting up. “Excuse me?”

“Judging by the idiotic thing you just said to her, she hasn’t told you.” Paul narrowed his eyes, “Felicity was involved in a shooting six years ago. She was paralyzed, until my husband invented a spinal implant that helped her walk again. I know you were on an island so you missed all of those headlines, but I think she knows at least a little bit about your pain…maybe more than you realize. It took her years to get to where she is, and now she works to make chips like hers accessible to everyone  _and_ to help people going through the same thing. Like you. I have no idea why you are the way you are, but just watching you gives me whiplash. Felicity took what she experienced and the pain she felt from it and she turned it into something good. She’s using it to try to save people in this city. I think it’s  _you_ who wouldn’t know the first thing about that.”

Oliver stared at Paul for a moment, having no idea what to say, so he just nodded his head once, his jaw clenching. And then he pushed through the doors and into the parking lot.

Quickly pacing to his car, Oliver threw his bag into the backseat with unnecessary force, taking a moment to calm down before he got behind the wheel. He’d always known he could be an idiot, especially when it came to women and his judgement. Those two things just never meshed well together. But this was worse.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, slamming the back door just as the doors to the center opened, and he watched Felicity march out. Her head was down as she quickly made her way to her car. Part of him told him that this could be the end of it. Let her hate him, give it a clean break and find a therapist who didn’t make him think, for the first time in a long time, that he could be happy.

“Screw it,” he sighed to himself before jogging up to her. “Hey,” he breathed as she looked up at him. “Hi.” Her gaze was guarded, her tongue coming out between her lips as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “Your partner told me…about what happened to you. I’m sorry…for that, and for what I said. I was a jerk. And I’m really sorry.”

Felicity sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I get the feeling you don’t say that very often.” He laughed once, shaking his head. “Okay, it’s okay Oliver. Don’t worry about it.”

“Felicity, I’m trying, and I really don’t want a different therapist. I want you.”

Her breath physically caught as her eyes darted up to his, “I imagined you saying that under different circumstances.” She blurted.

He cocked his head to the side, smiling at her. “How about… _date…_ circumstances? I mean-what if we-what if  _I…_ I know you probably hate me, but I-”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Uh, well, I’m trying to. I’m not doing a very good job at it though.” He sighed.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Coffee?” 

She watched him carefully, “When?”

“Um, now, maybe?” He stuttered.

Felicity nodded slowly, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I do love coffee.”


	48. "Maybe He Thinks He Penetrates Just Fine" (Arrow Out of Context)

Oliver finished putting his last arrow into his last bank robber, “Dig, do you hear that?”

John nodded, glancing at him as he holstered his gun, “it’s the alarm Felicity installed in our suits. Someone’s breaking in.”

“Let’s get over there. I’ll call SCPD to come grab these guys on our way,” Oliver grumbled.

Felicity was having a girls night. Iris and Caitlin had been planning on visiting ever since the wedding, but when Cisco surprised them with Kara…the energy went from zero to one hundred in a matter of minutes.

He’d listened to their excited squeals, and he knew their plans of having a lowkey night at the bar was thrown out the window.

Judging by the texts she’d been sending him all night, Felicity was drunk.  _Very_ drunk. 

 _A_ bar had apparently turned into  _four_ , and he had a decent guess that he’d have to pick the girls up somewhere later. It was a good thing his wife was an adorable, hilarious drunk. He thought she already didn’t have a filter when it came to her babbling, but the first time he’d seen her intoxicated proved him wrong.

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he remembered how she’d kept her hand on his stomach all night, feeling his abs and whining if he tried to move. 

“What’s so funny?” His partner asked.

“Just thinking about Felicity.” Oliver muttered. To that, Dig rolled his eyes, smiling as he shook his head.

When John and Oliver got to the bunker, they slowly and quietly made their way down the stairs, not needing to communicate a thing as they heard the sound of metal clanking and hushed voices.

They glanced at each other, raising their weapons.

He heard a high pitched yelp, followed by silence. And then Felicity’s voice as she whispered, “Shhh, sh, did you guys hear that?”

Dig and Oliver exchanged another glance. As they crept through the dim bunker, Caitlin’s voice cut in, “Someone’s coming!”

“Can you make us invisible? Or disappear!?” Iris asked, louder than Felicity or Caitlin had been speaking.

John and Oliver rounded the corner just in time to see Kara crossing her arms as she stood on the training mats, looking down at Iris from where she was lying on her back on the mats, “I’m an alien, not a magician.”

Oliver’s gaze glanced up to Caitlin and Felicity, who were hanging side by side on the salmon ladder. “I don’t hear anything.” Caitlin said, glancing around the dark room, not seeing John or Oliver hidden in the shadows.

Felicity was still whispering as her legs swung, “I thought I heard the elevator moving.”

“I don’t think so,” Iris whispered back as Kara helped her to her feet. “I think we’re okay.”

“Um,” Caitlin winced, looking down at her friends.

“Kara, I think you need to get us down from here now.” Felicity giggled. 

Kara flew up to the bar they were hanging from as if it was the most normal thing in the world, scooping Felicity up in her arms and bringing her back to the ground. Then she retrieved Caitlin, setting her on her feet, too.

They were all too busy giggling to notice John and Oliver coming towards them, into the light, but Caitlin screamed when she was the first to catch sight of them. As the girls’ screeches filled the bunker, Oliver and Diggle sighed.

“What are you doing here?” Oliver asked when the noise stopped, shoving his arrow back into his quiver and lowering his bow. “I thought you were going to the bar.”

“We went to the bar,” Felicity sang, bouncing across the mats on her bare feet to reach him. Once she was a couple feet away, she tossed herself at him, trusting him to catch and steady her.

Her husband huffed as he kept her from falling over, setting his bow on the floor before she hurt herself. “We were out patrolling when the silent alarms started going off.”

Felicity winced, “Damn it,” she cursed, “I forgot about those.”

“Honey,” Oliver said, pulling back to look down at her. “I don’t like you being in here when you’re all intoxicated…that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“We’re  _fine_ , Oliver.” She said, weaseling her way back into his arms. “Now hug me.” He huffed out a laugh and kissed the top of her head. 

“There are weapons down here, Felicity. This could get dangerous really fast.”

“Oliver,” she sighed, “we’re drunk, not children.”

“Oh yeah? Then why is Iris trying to play with Curtis’ T-spheres?”

“Shit,” Diggle jumped into action, jogging across the bunker to stop Iris as she stood by the equipment, tossing the sphere up and catching it. John took it out of her hand and she frowned, “Okay, let’s just put that back,” he mumbled, shoving the sphere back into its’ drawer. Then he guided her and Kara to the couches, telling them to sit.

Caitlin walked up to Oliver and Felicity, twisting her hands behind her back and offering an awkward smile. “Hi, Oliver. Could I look at one of your arrows?” She asked, gesturing to the quiver on his back.

“Why?” He asked cautiously, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Well, Cisco and I were just talking one day about a way to mass produce them so that you wouldn’t have to spend so much time making them yourself. We can create an algorithm that can copy the way you do it-same density, same speed, same weight, everything. It could even improve your penetration, but I’d need to analyze one.”

Oliver nodded once, “Maybe we can talk tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow at her, knowing that handing Caitlin a sharp object after he’d just caught them drunk and hanging from the salmon ladder simply wasn’t a good idea.

“Hey,” his wife’s arms tightened around his middle, her head still on his chest. “Maybe he thinks he penetrates just fine.” Then she chuckled at her own words, hugging him even tighter, “Actually, I know he does.” She pulled back to wiggle her eyebrows at him, nudging him in the stomach with her elbow and he knew he was blushing.

“Oh, Felicity…” he groaned, not daring to even look at poor Caitlin as he shook his head at his wife. 

Felicity was already moving on to the next thing. “Oh!” She yelled, pulling away from him.

She dragged him over to the couches and pushed him down on the one across from Kara. “Watch,” Felicity mumbled to her friend, pointing a finger at Kara and raising an eyebrow.

Kara covered her mouth to keep from laughing, like she knew what was coming.

“Honey, what-” Oliver started, but then his wife sat down on his knee, and his hands lifted to her waist to keep her steady and she reached behind him. She had a tendency to be clumsy when she drank. And when she was sober.

Felicity flipped his hood over his head. “Green Arrow,” she imitated his “growly voice” as she liked to call it, usually referring to when he had the modulator on, intimidating criminals.

Then she brought the hood back down, exposing his face again. “My husband.” She leaned down to give him a quick kiss.

“Green Arrow,” she growled again, bringing his hood back up, her eyebrows creasing.

Then she threw the hood back, giggling, “My husband!” She gave him another kiss.

He was too amused to be bothered. “What are you doing?” He asked her, shaking his head.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight and kissing his cheek. “Do you  _know_ what Kara’s secret identity is? Her  _glasses_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kara said, “she’s been teasing me all night. But to be fair…things are a little different on my earth.” She raised her hands up in defense.

Felicity laughed more, standing up and moving to sit next to Kara, who rolled her eyes playfully. Oliver pinched his lips together, trying not to laugh as Felicity reached for Kara’s glasses.

“Kara…” she said, and then gently pulled the glasses off, “Supergirl!” She yelled.

Felicity slid them back on, “Kara…” and slipped them back off again, “Supergirl!” Oliver and Kara both chuckled at her as she sighed, handing Kara her secret identity and falling back onto the couch. “Man, wouldn’t it be cool if I could take my glasses off and become a superhero?”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her, “first of all, don’t get any ideas. And second of all, you already are a superhero.”

The simultaneous “awww” that sounded from Felicity and Kara had him blushing and rolling his eyes at the same time.

His wife stood up and came back over to him, sitting down next to him on the couch. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hands sliding over his forearm. “Don’t worry, I love being Overwatch.” she sighed, “Wouldn’t it be cool to sleep fly, though?”


	49. "You Will Always Be My Girl, Felicity" (Arrow Out of Context)

that-one-writer13 asked: 8 please. I love when he told her that.

thisamerican-psycho said:Out of context #8

**Arrow Out of Context Part 2!**

_“You will always be my girl, Felicity.”_

* * *

 

Only Felicity Smoak was capable of distracting him from work when she wasn’t even in the building. 

She’d been mad at him since the night before.

Ever since he came home with a haircut.

Apparently wives were supposed to be consulted before husbands cut their hair. But he foolishly wasn’t aware of this rule. He’d also had no idea she was so attached to his hair, so he denied all blame. It had gotten long and irritating, and he’d needed to cut it. Stopping by the barber on his way home had seemed like a great idea. Felicity didn’t agree.

Refusing to apologize for his colossal mistake only got him into deeper trouble.

Felicity’s face had dropped as soon as he’d walked through the door, making his own heart sink with worry at the look on her face. But after mumbling “what have you done?” and running her hands over his buzzed hair, she ignored him for about an hour. Then he’d cooked her dinner, and he was happily on his way to being forgiven by the time they sent William off to do his homework.

Until he tried to kiss her. He’d pressed his lips against hers and hummed, finally melting into his wife’s embrace after a long day.

And her hands had reached for his hair.

When there was nothing for her to grab on to, she’d whimpered, and her anger was restored with a low growl of disapproval into his mouth.

He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. He knew that she wasn’t  _actually_ mad at him, but his laughter fueled her resolve to keep up the charade. Besides, her disappointment was definitely real. He knew she loved his hair long, he just hadn’t been expecting her to care this much. So Felicity had spent the rest of the night turning the whole thing into a sort of game.

She’d pulled out his favorite dress she owned, hanging it up on the closet door to let him know she’d be wearing it the next day. And she’d walked around their bedroom getting ready to go to sleep, in a pair of silk shorts and a tank top, not bothering to look at him where he laid on his side of the bed.

He’d watched her patiently as she moved around the room, not saying a word. Finally, set her hands on her hips and glanced at the dress, turning to him with a slight frown. “You know, I love this dress. But I really can’t wear it with underwear underneath.” And then she’d shrugged and gone to take a shower.

When Oliver had followed her in, casually brushing his teeth and praying for an invitation, she’d pulled the curtain back, giving him a gorgeous view of her body and smiling at him, “can you pass me my shampoo?”

She was killing him, and her antics had continued all morning. After William left for school, Oliver had come up behind her while she made toast in the kitchen, running his hands over her hips and groaning because she wasn’t kidding about the underwear. “How long are you going to be upset with me? I promise not to cut my hair again unless you say so. But you’ll regret it, you should have seen my hair when I was on the island.  _No one_ enjoyed that. Not my best look,” he scrunched up his nose, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, “I’ll even let you cut it for me.”

“Now we’re talking,” she’d said, twisting in his arms and smiling up at him.

“So I’m forgiven?”

“No.”

Felicity had brought her mouth to his, just barely nipping at his bottom lip and pulling back when he tried to kiss her. “When?” He’d practically growled.

And Felicity had smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing and loving it, “your hair grows back fast, right? We can talk when I have something to hold on to again.”

So now he sat at his desk with stacks of paperwork, and all he could think about was his wife in her office, wearing that dress, without panties…and some very vivid images of her having something to hold on to.

There were a few things he knew Felicity couldn’t resist though, and if she wanted to tease him, he was prepared to tease right back.

Maybe he’d have to get a workout in on the roof of the apartment building tonight. Shirtless and sweaty was her weakness. He had far too many memories of half-finished circuits because Felicity had come into the bunker while he was trying to work out. And he’d learned to leave for his runs on the weekends an extra forty-five minutes early, needing time to dedicate to Felicity  _before_ he had a chance to shower. Oh yeah, he could use that to get her to see his perspective here.

And now his head was drifting to other things…

“Mr. Queen,” his secretary opened the door and stuck her head in. “Your wife is here to see you.”

Oliver shot up out of his seat way too fast, “Yes! Fantastic!” When his secretary gave him a strange look, he cleared his throat and straightened his tie, “Uh, send her in, please. Thank you, Hannah.”

His secretary nodded before going back to her desk, leaving the door open, and he could see Felicity coming towards his office, that damn dress hugging her and reminding him why he loved it so much.

He pressed his palms on his desk and smirked at her as she came in, shutting the door behind her. “Not satisfied with the way we left things this morning?” He asked.

Felicity pursed her lips, coming around his desk. He fought the urge to fall back in his chair and pull her onto his lap like he usually did. Instead, he let her slide onto the edge of his desk, perching herself on the corner. Her leg touched his hand, and he lifted it to rest his palm on her thigh. Felicity grinned as his fingers wrapped around it and squeezed. 

Okay, he was really bad at this game. 

“I just thought I’d come see if you wanted to get lunch.” She said innocently, pulling his hand away from her skin and lacing her fingers through his. She brought his hand up to her mouth, kissing his knuckles and glancing up at him, her eyes taunting and sexy as hell.

Oliver stared at her. Slowly stepping so he stood in front of her, he dropped her hand and placed his palms on the desk on either side of her. He held her gaze, leaning close to her face and watching as her eyes sparked with interest, amused that he was finally taking her bait. “You can’t keep this up forever, Smoak. I’m irresistible. Even with short hair.”

His wife smiled as she raised an eyebrow, her hands instinctively coming up to his face, her hands scratching through his beard. “You’re full of yourself. Haven’t you learned not to bet against me?”

“It’s not a bet, honey. You love me just as much as I love you. And you want me as much as I  _always_ want you. We both know this isn’t going to last until my hair grows back.”

Felicity bit her lip, her eyes dancing playfully with his. God, he loved her. Would this ever  _not_ be fun? “Fine,” she finally droned, a smile spreading across her perfect face. “You’re probably right. But I think I can make it a little longer than this.” She teased.

Her fingers skated into his hair, her eyes tracking the movement, and he sighed.

The knock on the door made her drop her hands as she twisted around, but Oliver stayed where he was, just tilting his head around Felicity as Hannah opened the door. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Queen,” his secretary said, “I have your schedule for the afternoon. Three meetings and a conference call with Star City Bank to discuss the Cayden James damage.”

Oliver winced, and Hannah made a sympathetic sound in response. “I’m sorry, Mr. Queen. I blocked out some time so you can pick up William from school today, though.” Then she gave him a frown, “You’ll just have to come back after for a meeting with the council.”

He sighed, “It’s okay, Hannah. Not your fault. What time is the first meeting?”

She smiled brightly, “The board will be here in about half an hour. Can I get you anything else? Cup of coffee?” 

“No,” Oliver said through another sigh, “Thank you, Hannah. You’re the best.”

Hannah’s smile widened, and she winked. “I’m your girl, Mr. Mayor. Call in if you need me.”

Felicity lifted her hand in a wave as Hannah closed the door again. 

Of course, it shouldn’t be surprising that his secretary brings him coffee…not that  _she_ had ever done it when they’d had to use his EA position as their cover. God, no.

Spinning back around, Felicity grabbed Oliver’s face and crushed her lips to his. She kissed him fully, enjoying the way he only hesitated for a moment in surprise before he was kissing her back, sucking at her bottom lip like he loved to do. He let out a soft noise of contentment, and she hummed back. Felicity tossed her arms around his neck, arching her back and pressing her chest against his. “Honey…” he groaned, not bothering to stop kissing her as he spoke. “You heard Hannah, and I  _cannot_ do the things I want to do to you in just thirty minutes.”

She just kissed him harder, sliding her body closer until he was between her legs, his hands falling to her waist. “Felicity,” he whispered, smiling against her mouth. He pulled back slightly, “What is this? What happened to ‘I can make it a little longer than this’, what happened to ‘we’ll talk once I have something to hold on to again?’”

“Changed my mind,” she rasped, grabbing his face again and dragging him towards her.

He kissed her for another minute before he reared back, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing.”

Oliver eyed her suspiciously. “Hmm,” he hummed, moving his hands up her ribs and sliding them over her back. He gripped his fingers into the soft material of her dress, “I don’t believe you. But I have to get some things together before this meeting, so don’t think I’m going to forget about this look on your face,” he said, using his index finger to point at her eyebrows, “you’re doing that thing crinkly with your eyebrows.”

“I think your secretary has a crush on you.” She breathed.

Her husband quirked an eyebrow, “you’re making out with me because you think Hannah likes me and you’re jealous?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, waving him off, “I’m making out with you because you’re my husband and you’re really hot. And I love you.”

He smirked, understanding lighting his face. “And because my secretary just called herself my girl.”

Felicity straightened her shoulders, glancing down at her hands as she fixed his tie, “I’m your girl.”

“Oh, honey,” he leaned forward, pressing a few kisses to her cheek, “of course you are. The coffee you brought me that one time was way better than Hannah’s, anyway.”

She glared at him, his voice thick with teasing. Pushing him back as she rolled her eyes, Felicity slid off his desk, “sometimes it’s like you never want to have sex again.”

“I’m kidding!” He let out a breathy laugh as she picked up her purse. Oliver caught her hand and turned her back around, pulling her into his arms with a huff. “Are you actually worried about my secretary?”

“No,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes again even if he couldn’t see it.

“Good,” he squeezed her shoulders, swaying with her side to side, “you better not be, because you’re all I want, Felicity.” He spoke softly, his lips grazing her temple and sending a shiver down her spine.

“I know,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she breathed in the familiar scent of him on his shirt. “Same here.” He swayed back and forth a few more times until she groaned, “I should go.” She said, but she held him a little tighter, her arms wrapped around his middle.

Felicity tilted her chin, looking up at his face, and he glanced down long enough to smile at her before he kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you at home,” she murmured against his lips.

Oliver pulled back enough so he could see her face, adjusting the strap of her purse on his shoulder. “Hey…” he said quietly, and her eyes softened, as they always did, at the gentle tone. “You will always be my girl, Felicity.” He promised, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose.

Felicity beamed up at him, gracing him with an adorable wink. “And don’t you forget it.”

 


	50. "A Blonde Who Likes Leather" (Arrow Out of Context)

instrumentallyyours asked: Omg number 1 plssss

Anonymous said: 1 please please please please!!! 

Anonymous said: 1 and 2 mixed?? 

Arrow Out of Context [Part 2!](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/171069949259/arrow-out-of-context-sentence-prompts-part-two) 

 _“I’m looking for someone. A blonde who likes leather.” “Sounds like your type.”_ (and a bonus  _“God, you’re really sweaty”_ just for fun)

* * *

 

Evening runs were always the best way to clear his head. Ivy League campuses were also perfectly empty at night. All of the students at Columbia were either in their dorm rooms studying or in the library studying. Oliver didn’t care for either. His parents had insisted that he come, but that didn’t mean he had to actively try to  _stay_ here. 

His headphones were in, blocking out the city sounds, and his head was back in Starling. Tommy had gotten lucky and somehow convinced his father that he needed to defer college for a year. So his best friend was probably partying at Verdant. 

Oliver had been at Columbia for two weeks, and he had yet to find a single student who cared about a decent party scene. He was actually pretty sure that parties didn’t exist here, because he definitely would have found one by now. 

It was torture. What was the point of going to college if he wasn’t going to experience the whole thing? He’d gone to three of his classes so far, and he’d even read the first chapter of Hamlet out of boredom…he deserved to let loose.

Not paying attention and not used to seeing anyone on campus past 8:00pm, Oliver didn’t notice the girl coming out of the financial building. And he crashed into her, his momentum knocking them both to the ground. 

She screamed, and he did his best to wrap his arms around her and cushion her fall as he landed on top of her. He groaned as he opened his eyes, and then he raised his eyebrows. The blonde beneath him was dressed in black leather, including a mask over her face. 

He grinned, “Well you’re the most interesting thing I’ve seen since I got here.”

“God, you’re really sweaty.” She groaned back.

Oliver didn’t move, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I will be once you get off of me.”

He sighed, standing up and reaching out for her hands, helping her to her feet. “I  _am_ sorry,” he said, “I usually don’t see a single soul out here when I run at night.”

She started backing up as soon as she pulled her hands away from his, “Whatever, just…watch where you’re going.”

Raising his eyebrows at her, he took a step in her direction, “You’re not going to tell me what all the leather is about?”

“Nope,” she said, cocking her head to the side and grinning. 

Oh, he had to know. “I assume that’s a no on getting your name then.”

She shook her head, “ _hard_ no.”

“Come on, if there’s some kinky, leather-only club on this campus, I  _have_ to know,” he gave her his best flirtatious smile as he looked her up and down.

The girl chuckled, “I’ll let you know if I find one.” And then she turned on her heels and walked into the shadows. He had an impulse to follow her, but thought better of it. 

There was no way he would forget about this, though. He had to figure out who she was.

* * *

Oliver couldn’t stop thinking about that night or the girl for the next week. He even went to all of his classes, just hoping he’d see a head a blonde hair that looked familiar. 

After a week with no hints as to who the girl was, Oliver started to doubt that he’d ever figure it out.

On Friday his roommate came in and tossed the school newspaper on his chest as he laid in bed. “You seen this?” He asked. 

Oliver narrowed his eyes as he read the front page, detailing a story about a break-in at the finance building. Someone had hacked into a handful of student records and forgiven their debts. Athletes who had been here on scholarships and lost it due to injuries. Kids who couldn’t get the financial aid they needed to continue going to an Ivy League school. Students who’d gotten screwed over. And it apparently wasn’t the first time something like this had happened at Columbia.

He smiled, this had the blonde written all over it. 

“Do they have any idea who did it?”

His roommate shrugged, “Nope. My money’s on that liberal hacktivist group thought.”

“A what group?”

“Hacktivists.” Palmer sighed, “They call themselves Helix. The administration has no idea that they even exist, but they dress up like it’s Halloween and pull stuff like this all the time.”

“How do you know about them?”

Ray shrugged, “They tried to recruit me orientation weekend.”

“Do you know anyone’s name that’s in the group?”

His roommate leveled him with a look. “I might not have been interested in going to prison with those people, but I’m not a narc. They’re actually doing a lot of good.”

Oliver just shrugged, “I’m not trying to get them in trouble.”

Ray exhaled, leaning back in his chair, “I got an invitation for this online group. They have you break an encryption code, and then I guess you’re in. It was actually really cool, but I didn’t even attempt it. You had to break through a firewall and-”  

“Palmer.”

“Right. Well, they never gave their names. But I’d start with Felicity Smoak. I’d bet my family’s fortune that she’s a part of it. Kind of makes me wish I’d accepted their invitation, actually.” He frowned.

“Who is Felicity Smoak?” Oliver asked.

“She’s this badass goth who’s in like, all of my classes. I keep asking her out,” Ray sighed, “she keeps saying no.” 

Oliver grinned, a goth with an aversion to preppy rich boys? So far she sounded just like his late night run-in. 

“Where can I find Felicity Smoak?”

“I think she lives in the dorm next to ours. But she’s also in the computer lab a lot. I may have pinged her phone.”

Oliver got up, putting his shoes on and heading for the door. “Thanks, Ray.” He backed up, pointing a finger at his roommate, “and stop pinging girls’ phones. It’s weird.”

Ray nodded once, “Right.”

* * *

He actually felt nervous as he knocked on her door. But it swung open before he could take it back. The tiny dark haired girl that glared up at him was not what he was expecting. “What are you doing here?” She snapped.

Oliver gaped, dropping his hand to his side, feeling disappointed. He probably should have known that he wouldn’t find a tall blonde dressed in black leather opening the door…“I’m sorry…” he said, meeting Felicity’s glare, “do we know each other?”

Her eyes widened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “No. You just must be lost. The fraternities are at Syracuse, not Columbia.” She sassed, regaining her composure as her features hardened.

He stared at her. He’d never actually met anyone who disliked him so much upon their first encounter. Especially college girls. He was certain he would have recognized her if she was in one of his classes, or he’d pissed her off in some way before.

The dark hair and eye makeup usually wasn’t what he went for…but he recognized beauty when he saw it. 

And she was gorgeous. 

He had a feeling she was gorgeous with or without all the black make up. Just like the blonde. Oliver cleared his throat, “I was hoping you could help me. I think you might know a friend of mine.”

She cocked her head to the side, and Oliver narrowed his eyes at her, the move was distinctly familiar. His heart started to race as he cursed himself for being such an idiot. She might have been wearing a mask, and apparently a wig, but he still should have recognized her.

“I’m looking for someone.” He smirked, “A blonde who likes leather.”

She smiled back, raising an eyebrow with amusement. “Sounds like your type.”

Oh yes, that confident grin was definitely the one he hadn’t been able to get out of his head all week. “Yeah, she definitely left an impression. So…would you mind helping me track her down, Felicity?” He said her name with new appreciation.

She pinched her lips together as she thought, “What makes you think I would be able to help you?”

“Oh, my roommate is Ray Palmer. He told me all about you. Genius, gorgeous hacker and all.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. And he caught an adorable blush rising on her neck. “Palmer.”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile, completely charmed by her. “Will you help?”

Felicity fidgeted, leaning against her door frame, “And…what do you want with this blonde in leather?”

“A date.” He answered immediately.

Her eyebrows shot up, “Um…oh…okay…well, I can look into it and get back to you.” She stepped back, moving to close her door, but he caught it.

Oliver ran his index finger over her hand, where she had a few light scratches on her skin. “Did you fall, Felicity?” He mumbled, meeting her eyes.

She stared back at him with wide eyes, “What? No.”

He grinned, “Relax, your secret’s safe with me.”

Now her eyes narrowed, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

“Well, yes. And I also think you’re cute. So two cute people who have exciting chemistry like ours should at least go on a date.”

“We do  _not_ have chemistry,” she hissed.

“Yes, we do.” He insisted.

She licked her lips, her pink tongue contrasting the dark lipstick she wore and Oliver watched in pure appreciation. “No,” she replied, “we don’t.”

“Go out with me,” he said, smiling crookedly at her.

“What?” Her eyes darted up to his, her expression amused as she pursed her lips, trying not to smile, to keep up her tough act…but he could see through it. 

She was  _sweet_. 

“No,” she finally whispered, in the most unconvincing tone he’d ever heard.

“Go out with me,” he mumbled again, taking a step closer.

She didn’t move away, “has your roommate been giving you pointers on how to ask a girl out?”

He laughed, “Fine, I see your point. I’ll ask you one more time…nicely…and if you say no, I’ll leave you alone.”

Felicity raised her chin, her eyes dancing with his, fireworks sparking between them that he knew she  _had_ to be feeling too. “Felicity Smoak…would you like to go on a date with me tonight?”

She sighed, resting her head against her door and narrowing her eyes at him as he held his breath, waiting. “You’re not going to tell anyone about my nightly activities?”

He shook his head adamantly, “Hell, I wouldn’t mind helping you with your nightly activities.” She smirked, and he felt his face getting red. “I didn’t mean that to sound sexual.”

She shook her head in amusement. “Fine. One date.”

Oliver grinned down at her, “We’ll see.”


	51. "You're Really Cute When You're Mopey" (Arrow Out of Context)

trueromantic1 asked: #17 for the S2 sentence prompts please!

Arrow Out of Context [Part 2!](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/171069949259/arrow-out-of-context-sentence-prompts-part-two) 

_“You’re really cute when you’re mopey.”  
_

_“I’m not mopey.”_

* * *

 

Felicity leaned towards her screen as she typed, clenching her jaw because she felt Oliver and John leaning in, too. They stood over each of her shoulders. Hovering. She pushed her shoulders back, rolling her neck in an attempt to relax. Everything felt stiff and she was really trying not to blow up on the boys.

She felt Oliver’s fingers slide up her back and begin massaging her neck as she typed, like he knew exactly what she was feeling and this was his apology. It worked perfectly, and some of the tension left her body with a groan.

“It looks like Dragon’s men meet up at Star City Motel.” She mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing. “Every Thursday night at 9:00. The aliases they rent the room under each week match some of the names we’ve been compiling. I can’t tell much more than that, but this definitely has something to do with Diaz.”

Oliver nodded, “Good work. Now we just have to figure out what they’re up to.”

Felicity lifted her hand, placing it over his where it rested on her shoulder, “There’s no security cameras outside the motel or in the halls. It’s probably why they chose the place, but not very helpful for us. Unfortunately there’s no way for me to find out…”

Diggle crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Looks like we’ll have to do some recon.”

“Today’s Thursday,” Oliver said with a frown, glancing down at his wife. He was thinking the same thing she was; they had a date. A date that they’d already cancelled twice in the last two weeks to chase down Richard Dragon leads.

John told them that Lyla was home and he couldn’t cancel their family time unless he wanted to end up divorced.

Oliver brushed him off, “I should be fine. I’ll just see what’s going on there tonight and I’m sure we can deal with the rest of it tomorrow.”

“Call me if you need any back-up.” Dig said before leaving.

Felicity tapped her fingers across the keyboard as the men spoke, “I just got you a room across the yard from the room Diaz’s men use, you should be able to have a visual from there.” She explained, waving to John as he headed home. “And I can set you up with some audio equipment…but it’s a little difficult to use…you might need some help.”

“You didn’t have to get a room, Felicity.”

“Well,” she started, “I just figured you might be more comfortable there than in the bushes. Who knows how long this will take. And it’ll be easier to spy on them if we have access to their conversation. But the audio device is from Star Labs and we haven’t had a reason to use it yet or even a chance to test it. I think I should help.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side as he looked down at her, “You want to come?” 

Felicity wiggled in her chair, nodding excitedly as she bit her lip. “Yeah, baby! Laptops are portable and motels have wifi. You’ll need my help if we want to listen in on the room. Stakeout!” She exclaimed.

He chuckled, “It’s not a stakeout, it’s recon.”

She frowned, “I want to call it a stakeout.”

He just shook his head, smiling, “All right, we’ll call it a stakeout.”

She was practically bouncing in her chair, “I’ve been waiting six years on this team to have a stakeout! It’s like, one of the main reasons I joined up with you two in the first place.” Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, and Felicity backtracked, her hand darting out to grab his arm, “I mean, and your super noble mission to save the city…and your abs, of course.” She did a little dance as she smiled up at him, “But also stakeouts!”

Oliver leaned down to kiss her forehead, “you know they’re incredibly boring, right? All you do is sit and stare. Quietly. It’s all of your least favorite things.”

Felicity frowned as he pulled back, “honey. Come on,” she groaned, “John and Lyla get to be badass secret spies with A.R.G.U.S. I want to go on a super cool mission with my husband. Let me have this.”

Oliver chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender, “All right. I mean, we do have code names though so I think we’re pretty badass, too.”

“Good point.”

* * *

Oliver couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Felicity, perched in the dark motel room, wearing all black with binoculars to her face as she stared out of the window.

They’d gone home before coming to the motel, where she’d changed into the outfit and he’d smirked at her choice. She was taking this very seriously, dark eye makeup and all. 

He’d watched as she maneuvered around Raisa, who was trying to make dinner in the kitchen. Felicity made them each a to-go cup filled with the strongest coffee he’d ever tasted. Then she packed a bag full of everything she associated with stakeouts. So aside from the tech she needed, it was just a duffel bag full of snacks.

“Felicity…” he started, “it’s only 7:30. They won’t be here until 9:00.”

“I know.” She whispered back as if they had to quiet. They really didn’t, but he thought it was adorable anyway. “I’m just seeing if any of Diaz’s men show up early.”

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He came up behind her and put his hands over her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs against the knots in her back. She groaned as she always does, dropping the binoculars into her lap and leaning back against him.

That was more like it.

As he gently massaged her back, he bent down, pressing his mouth to her cheek, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Her head lulled against his chest, giving him better access and he moaned, appreciating the way she melted into him. “I have a bottle of champagne,” he mumbled into her neck.

She sighed, “you brought champagne to our stakeout?”

He nodded, grinning into her neck, “We have some time to kill.”

“Are you trying to turn our secret mission into a hookup in a motel room?”

“Is it working?” he whispered, his fingers gliding down her arms. He felt her shiver, and he rubbed his nose against her skin, pretty sure that it was.

“Sam Armand,” Felicity breathed.

“What?” he asked, his head snapping up to the window.

She pointed, and sure enough, Oliver saw Star City’s District Attorney just as he was drawing the curtains of Dragon’s motel room. “What is he doing here?” Oliver growled, because clearly it wasn’t anything good.

Felicity was already on her iPad, holding up the little satellite looking device that they were supposed to be able to hear with. She shook her head, “I lost the signal. He must be blocking it somehow. It’ll take me a minute to get it back.”

“Was anyone else with him?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t think so, I only saw Armand. I don’t know, you were  _distracting_ me!”

“We’re still supposed to have over an hour!” He defended himself.

She pointed a finger at him, “ _you_ are not a good stakeout partner!”

Oliver sighed, “see if you can get the signal back. I’m going to get a closer look,” he grumbled, reaching into his pocket for his mask.

Felicity put her ear piece in as Oliver climbed out of the window and stalked across the lawn towards Armand’s room. She worked on getting the signal back and kept an eye on Oliver through the window at the same time. She could see Armand’s shadow in the room, but his was the only one.

She nodded once, glancing at Oliver as he crouched in the bushes, watching the same thing. “Any luck?” Oliver asked in her ear.

“Not yet,” she answered. “Is Armand alone?”

“Yeah,” Oliver mumbled, “But he’s leaving.”

“To go where?”

“No idea. I’ve got to get in there though.” Without another word, she watched as Oliver broke the lock to the window and climbed into Armand’s room. “He’ll be back,” Oliver filled her in, “he left paperwork all over the room…Felicity,” he mumbled after a moment of silence, “he’s meeting with someone about my trial. Probably Diaz.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing on the window. “What does he have on you?”

Before Oliver could answer, there was a knock on her door. She hurried over to it, looking through the peephole and feeling her heart drop. Felicity slapped her hand over her mouth as a tiny yelp escaped her. “He’s here,” she hissed as quietly as she could.

“What?” Oliver snapped, and she saw him pull back the curtain and look into her room. 

“What do I do?” she panicked, pacing around the room as Armand knocked again.

“Ignore it.” Oliver sighed, dropping the curtain and turning back to the files.

Felicity groaned, having a different idea. She quickly shoved all of the equipment back into her duffel bag and zipped it up. Then she glanced around the room for anything else that might look suspicious. Looking down at herself, she rolled her eyes at the black pants, black shirt, and black hat she’d chosen to wear. 

_Real subtle._

She stripped off the clothes as Armand knocked again, shoving those into the bag too. “Uh, one second!” She called.

“What are you doing?” Oliver grumbled in her ear.

“Buying you time,” she whispered back.

In her underwear, she panicked even more, running for the bathroom and grabbing a towel. Oliver cursed her in ear. 

She wrapped the towel around herself and tugged the elastic out of her hair as she hurried to the door. Swinging it open, she caught her breath, staring up at Sam Armand.

His eyes widened, “Mrs. Smoak? What are you doing here?”

She tried her best to relax, “I was about to take a shower. I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else…but uh, it’s nice to see you Mr. Armand.”

He eyed her suspiciously, “Is your husband here as well?” he asked, glancing over her shoulder and into the room.

“Oh, no,” she breathed, “he’s not…he’s at home. This is where I…” Felicity hesitated, pinching her lips together and cocking her head to the side, “look, Mr. Armand, I meet my lover here every Thursday evening.” She had to stop herself from cringing at the word  _lover_. Because gross. “I was just about to shower while I wait for him. I trust that…this little incident will stay between us.”

“Felicity,” Oliver growled in her ear and she narrowed her eyes up at Armand.

Sam glanced her up and down, and then he looked into the motel room, wariness written all over his face. Luckily for her, all he could see in the room was a duffel bag on the floor and a bottle of champagne on the nightstand. 

_Yeah, that fit._

She sighed in relief as he shrugged, seeming to believe her story despite the impeccable coincidence that he was meeting with someone, probably Dragon, about her husband’s trial just a few rooms away. “So,” she quipped, “what brings you to my door? My room. Here.”

“My wifi was terrible all of a sudden. The network showed that this room was the problem.”

She stiffened, thinking he knew she’d been trying to hack him. But she chose to laugh, however nervous it came out. “Oh, well, you know me. Wifi junkie over here. I may have found a way to suck up all the internet from the other rooms,” she rolled her eyes, “My uh…lover is a big Netflix fan and he hates when the connection is spotty. Sorry about that. I’ll fix it.”

“Okay…” Armand replied slowly, “thanks.”

“I’m almost done,” Oliver interjected lowly in her ear, “he left his laptop and I’m downloading everything he has onto a hard drive.”

Armand was turning to leave, and Felicity grabbed his arm, “Wait!” she yelled, way too dramatically. “Uh…maybe you could call me sometime,” she blurted, having absolutely no idea how else to stall. “You know…when I’m not with my husband or my lover.”

He cocked his head to the side, glancing at his watch. “Sure.”

“Sure?” her eyebrows shot up, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sure.” She nodded quickly, her hand gripping tighter on the towel at her chest.

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed in her ear, “let him go. I only need one more minute. I’ll be out by the time he gets back here.”

“Okay!” Felicity yelped in relief. “Well, see you later!” She moved to close the door, but Armand caught it with his hand, stopping her. And she froze, meeting his curious gaze.

“Are you going to give me your number?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, challenging her.

Felicity snorted, rolling her eyes at herself. “Of course, silly me.” She rattled off her phone number in a long breath, and he just nodded. “Do you need to write that down or something?”

Armand just shrugged, tapping his finger against his temple.

She laughed, “All right then, well I’m going to take that shower…before I cheat on my husband…all over this motel room. Sex all up in here, you know. So much adulterous sex.” Felicity cringed, “Okay, well, call me. Bye!” She swung the door shut quickly, popping onto the balls of her feet to look out of the peephole and see Armand in the hallway outside.

He hesitated for a moment after the door slammed in his face, smiling and shaking his head before heading off towards his room. Felicity sighed in relief as she watched him retreat, mumbling, “he’s on his way back now,” to Oliver.

“We’re clear,” her husband answered, his voice right behind her.

Felicity startled, gasping as her grip on the towel slipped a few inches, revealing her bra, before she caught it. She took a deep breath, “you didn’t have to sneak back in here,”

“Why are you naked?” He asked.

She huffed, heading for her bag. She dropped the towel and pulled her clothes back on. “Because,” she explained as she stepped into her pants, “I thought my all black ninja outfit might be suspicious.”

He just nodded, holding up the thumb drive. “We can go. He’s here to meet Diaz. It’s in his schedule.”

“Shouldn’t we wait and listen?”

Oliver shook his head, “Everything they have on me is on this hard drive. He’s here to catch Diaz up on all of it. Armand is incredibly thorough, it’s why this took so long. But now we have everything he’s planning and hopefully he has no idea.”

“He definitely seemed to buy my story.” Felicity said, raising her eyebrows as she tied up her hair again.

“Let’s get going,” he mumbled.

Felicity just smirked at him, reading his brooding attitude perfectly, and it had nothing to do with Richard Dragon. “you’re really cute when you’re mopey.”

“I’m not mopey.” He objected.

“You are. You’re mopey about a fake affair.”

Oliver just stared at her, “I don’t like that the DA now thinks the Mayor’s wife cheats on him.”

Felicity wrapped her arms around his middle, cuddling into the leather that had somehow become comfortable over the years. Familiar. “The DA is in Dragon’s pocket. If they’re working together, I think we have bigger problems than your wife’s fake infidelity.”

He laughed once, nodding as he looked down at her, “you’re right. But we’re in a better spot against Diaz than we’ve been in six months. So…I guess there’s no reason to mope.”

“Mmm,” she agreed, tilting her head up and looking at his lips. He obliged, knowing exactly what she wanted. Oliver bowed his head to kiss her, exhaling as he finally relaxed. They were both fine. “Damn right.” She grinned as she pulled back, “now let’s go see what we’re working with.”

“We might finally have an advantage against Diaz.”

Felicity nodded, “I know, and you have to admit, my cover was pretty convincing. I don’t think Armand is on to us.”

“You got me enough time to download everything…so I’m happy. But if Armand tries to call you, I’m going to break at least six of his fingers.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him. And Oliver lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against her ring.


	52. Felicity's Chip (Post 6x14)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too many angry feelings to write this right after 6x14. Oliver would have ended up murdering all three of them. I still wouldn’t read if NTA being awful in a story would offend you, because they’re little shits in this fic :)

_anonymous  asked: HI!!!! Can you maybe write I fic where instead of Curtis hacking and attacking dig’s chip. He hacks Felicity’s. And Oliver just LOOSES HIS SHIT on the new team_

* * *

 

It started with a tiny cramp on her lower back, and Felicity flinched where she stood, looking out of the cabin window. Then the cramp started to  _pinch_ , the source of the pain intensifying and narrowing down to a specific spot at the bottom of her spine. “Ow!” She cried out, both of her hands flying behind her instinctively, grabbing where it hurt.

Oliver was on the other side of the room, talking to John about unimportant things like the idea that Black Siren having the same face as Laurel made any difference to him. It didn’t.

The sound of Felicity’s voice, loud and panicked, had his head snapping up to the place where she was standing. His eyes fell on her immediately, always knowing exactly where she was in any given room…especially when people like Black Siren were close by. Just as Felicity’s hands were reaching behind her, he was moving, rushing across the carpeted floor and gently turning her around, away from the window so he could see her face. “Hey, hey, hey,” he mumbled, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek, trying to see her face. “What is it?”

She let out a sharp breath, looking up at him. “My chip…” she breathed, her hands still spread out against her lower back. He followed her arms, reaching behind her and copying her movement, both of their fingers inspecting her back. He had no idea what he should be feeling for, but he needed to help find the source of her pain.

“What’s happening?” Oliver asked, his heart sinking into his stomach because her chip had only stopped working once, and that had almost ended in both of them dying. He knew that any kind of trouble with it was not good. At all.

Felicity looked up at him, her eyes wide, “I don’t know, my back just feels like it’s going numb and I-” she didn’t finish her sentence, instead she was screaming, her back arching in an unnatural way, the sound and the sight making Oliver’s breath catch in his throat. He grabbed her instantly, stopping her from bending over backwards as he pulled her against his body, cradling her head.

“Felicity!” He vaguely heard John coming up behind him.

“Oh my god!” Thea’s voice registered in the back of his mind.

But it was hard to hear or see anything besides his wife. He had no idea what to do.

All of her fingers were digging into her back, and he pulled her hands away so she wouldn’t hurt herself, and then he held on to her as she jerked against him, her back spasming under his hands. She inhaled and it was strangled, an awful, breathless sound escaping her lips, as if she’d gotten the wind knocked out of her. 

And then he was suddenly holding all of her weight.

The time from when she screamed to when she fell lifelessly into his arms had probably only been a few seconds, but to him it felt like an eternity. “Felicity, Felicity,” he faltered, pulling her against his chest, trying to hold her up and see her face at the same time. Her eyes were closed, her arms hanging at her sides, but he could feel her breathing. “ _Felicity_!”

“Oliver…”

Oliver’s eyes darted to Diggle, who was a few feet away. But his partner wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were cast down, staring at Felicity’s legs. “Oh, god,” he choked as he realized how unsteady she was. Her feet were on the floor, but her legs had gone completely limp.

Scooping her up, Oliver carried Felicity to the closest chair, wanting to lay her down on the couch but Black Siren was on it and he didn’t dare put his wife anywhere near her, even with three people he trusted right next to him. Instead, he sat down in the chair, pulling Felicity onto his lap and letting her legs hang over the side. 

He held her up with one arm wrapped around her. His other hand touched her cheek, “hey,” he pleaded, “Felicity, wake up. Felicity,”

“Is she breathing?” He heard Thea ask, her voice sounding as worried as he felt.

He just nodded in response, tucking Felicity’s hair behind her ears, pushing it away from her face because he didn’t know what else to do. “What’s happening?” He begged, asking anyone. Anyone who might have an answer or an idea about what to do.

Usually it was Felicity who had the answers. The plans. The clever ideas on how to get them out of trouble. “Honey, wake up. Felicity, open your eyes. Come on!” He knew he should relax, that as long as he could still see her chest moving and hear her tiny breaths, everything was okay. But how could he stay calm after what he’d just seen?

Quentin suddenly jumped towards the window, pulling the curtain back, seeing something none of the others were paying attention to. “We got company!” The man warned, dropping the fabric back over the glass. He turned around and raised an eyebrow, “Looks like Dinah, Curtis, and Rene.”

“How the hell did they find us?” Diggle snapped.

The question hung for a few seconds, and god, he didn’t even  _care_. Felicity was unconscious and he could barely think about anything else.

But then his sister gasped, and his eyes flew to her. Thea’s eyes widened, her gaze landing on Felicity. “Oh no,” she exhaled, “he wouldn’t.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, “What Thea?”

“Felicity said her chip is basically a mini computer, right?” He just nodded. “Computers can be  _hacked_ , Ollie.”

Everyone turned to stare at her, and even Black Siren let out a low whistle, “that’s harsh, even in my opinion.”

“Yeah,” Thea crossed her arms, “well no one cares about your opinion.”

“Quentin,” Oliver growled, “you and Thea take Black Siren. Run.”

Thea and Quentin exchanged a glance, and Oliver could see that his sister did not want to be on ‘protect the psychopath’ duty. But she didn’t object, knowing enough by now to realize that Oliver wasn’t going to argue.

As they snuck out the back door, Oliver stood up, holding Felicity in his arms and heading for the front door. Diggle followed behind him, putting his helmet on. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m going to kill them,” Oliver muttered, and Dig grunted, because neither of them knew if Oliver really would…or if Diggle would stop him. 

It was kind of hard to see right from wrong when his wife was unconscious and paralyzed… _again_ …in his arms. When he’d just watched her experience so much pain in a matter of seconds that it’d caused her to pass out. 

The idea that Curtis, Rene, and Dinah had done this to her made  _wrong_ start to look a lot like  _right_.

Lines had never been more blurred. And his anger had never been hotter. But he kept his grip loose, letting the tension roll through his back instead, keeping his arms safe and secure around Felicity.

His old teammates rounded the van as Oliver emerged from the cabin. “Oh my god,” were the first words he heard, coming from Curtis.

Oliver’s eyes snapped to Mr. Terrific. “Did you do this!?” He demanded, his tone heavy with rage, losing his temper as soon as he looked at them.

Curtis’ eyes stayed on Felicity, but he winced. “It was the only way we could track you! She’s okay, right? The chip should only be disabled temporarily, it should be functioning correctly within a few hours.”

“Should!?” Diggle and Oliver both hollered in unison.

Curtis’ eyes flashed between the two of them, “I’m sorry-I had no idea…I didn’t know it would hurt her like this, I never would have-”

“Shut up, hoss,” Rene chimed in, his voice thick with tense anticipation. Curtis listened, his lips pinching shut.

Dinah stepped towards them, “Where is she? Where’s Laurel?”

“Not here.” Oliver growled, his vision blackening with pure fury. Dinah must have seen it, because she didn’t push it any further. “Curtis, you’re going to do something, you’re going to fix this…or so help me god, I will-”

“You’ll what?” Rene scoffed.

“I’ll kill you.” Oliver clipped back without missing a beat, his eyes meeting Rene’s and not wavering. “If anything happens to her, I will kill all three of you…and I won’t hesitate for even  _one second_.”

“And this is why we left,” Dinah mumbled.

“I don’t care!” Oliver screamed, his voice echoing through the trees. He breathed heavily in the intense silence that followed, bringing his lips to Felicity’s forehead, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt her temperature. He could still hear her breathing, so he tried to relax. Nothing mattered but making sure that Felicity woke up, not these petty arguments or their temper tantrums. 

When he opened his eyes again, he glared right at Curtis. “ _Fix_ this. Now!”

Rene shook his head before Curtis could answer, stepping closer, “As long as blondie’s breathing…this doesn’t change anything.”

It took him a moment to realize that despite the perfect, unconscious woman in his arms who needed help, Rene actually meant what he said. Just like he meant it the dozen other times he’d said those words. 

Oliver realized that if  _this_ didn’t change their circumstances, if Felicity’s safety didn’t make them grow up and work with him, nothing would. Oliver felt his heart begin to race, his eyes jumping back to Curtis. “I’ll give you one more chance,” he growled lowly, feeling all of his self control leaving him and knowing that everyone present was aware of it. “Help her, Curtis, or you’ll regret it.”

The threat hung in the air, no one saying a word or moving a muscle.

Despite everything, he was still surprised that Curtis hesitated. Maybe it was out of fear, because surely Oliver knew he looked murderous. Half of him was still considering the ‘I’m going to kill them’ option. “Fix. This.” Oliver demanded, because it really shouldn’t be taking so much thought.

Curtis took a step towards them but stopped when Rene started moving, walking with his gun raised. Oliver’s eyes narrowed, and he turned on his heel, placing Felicity into John’s arms as quickly and gently as possible and reaching for the bow that he knew his partner would be holding.

He had an arrow raised before Rene made it halfway across the yard. “Not another step,” he warned.

Rene chuckled, keeping his feet planted, but he shot off a couple of bullets, always having something to prove, and Oliver didn’t hesitate to put two arrows in him; one in his arm and one in his leg. He noticed Dinah trying to scream during the commotion, and as Rene rolled on the ground in pain, Oliver straightened, looking at her. “Sonic dampener,” he told her.

She cocked her head to the side, pulling out her staff and charging towards him. Curtis followed suit, each of them coming at him from separate angles…as if they forgot that  _he_ was the one who taught them the strategy.

Oliver had no idea where his restraint was coming from, but he chose not to put arrows in them, opting to take them down with his fists instead.

Curtis got it first, a sharp hook to his jaw, and he was on the ground. Dinah was a little more skilled, but she was quickly on her back, too. “Stay down,” Oliver advised. Of course, neither of them listened, getting to their feet slowly, glaring at him as if they intended to try again.

“Stop!”

All three of them turned at the sound of Felicity’s voice, groggy and pained. She was sitting in the driveway while John tried to look her over, but she was pushing away from his hands, dragging herself towards Oliver. He ran over to her, dropping to his knees and completely ignoring the two people behind him that he knew wanted to hurt him.

Turning your back to an enemy was the dumbest thing you could ever do, but… he was hoping his old teammates weren’t so low they’d take a shot now. Besides, Felicity was glaring daggers at them over his shoulder as he cupped her face, not even meeting his eyes. If Dinah or Curtis chose to fight dirty, Felicity would see them coming.

“Hey,” he breathed, “hey, hi…are you okay?”

Her eyes flickered to his, apparently satisfied with Dinah and Curtis’ choice to stand down. “Yeah,” she nodded, lifting her hands to squeeze his fingers. She gave him a gentle smile as she grazed the backs of his hands, and he let out a deep breath, dropping his forehead to hers. “Are you hurt?”

Oliver shook his head, brushing his nose against hers. “God,” he croaked, “you really scared me.”

“Oliver…” she whispered lowly, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“I know,” he squeezed his eyes shut, hating how vulnerable her voice sounded, taking him back to that night they were trapped in the bunker. “I know, you’ll be okay. We’ll fix it.”

“Felicity,” Curtis spoke up, “I can take a look at your chip and see if I can get it back online, it shouldn’t take-”

“No!” Felicity interrupted, “No, you’re  _not_ going to touch me!” She yelled, making Oliver flinch even though he knew the words weren’t for him.

“Felicity, I-” Curtis tried again.

“Just go, Curtis. Get the hell out of here…and away from me.” Felicity kept her forehead against Oliver’s, and she released a shaky breath before speaking to him. “Take me home, please.”

Oliver bit his lip, knowing that she was scared and angry, but Curtis was the one who knew how to fix her chip… “Felicity, maybe we should let Curtis check you out. I’ll be right there with you,” he mumbled, lifting her into his arms again, realizing that she didn’t need to stay on the ground. “John and I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

His wife sighed, bringing her arms around his neck, she hugged herself to him. “I can fix it myself. I don’t need Curtis. I have a husband who makes a wonderful, and handsome, assistant…” she gestured to Dig, “and our medically trained soldier over there can do the procedure. We just have to get it back online. No problem. I’ll walk you two through it.”

Oliver glanced down at her, shaking his head because  _of course_ she was trying to make jokes right now. Felicity hid her face in his neck, skimming her nose along his skin as he felt the softest, faintest little kisses against his throat.

With a sigh, Oliver’s eyes fluttered shut and he relented. He’d do whatever she asked, because she was okay. If she trusted that the three of them could handle it without Curtis’ help, then so did he.

Moving towards the van, Oliver eyed Curtis and Dinah, who had resorted to ignoring them and tending to Rene’s wounds. “Take him to the hospital and get him patched up,” Oliver ordered, to which he received irritated glares from his old teammates. “But when it’s over, I want all of you out of my city.”

“Is that a threat, hoss?” Rene grumbled as Oliver walked by him, tucking Felicity a little tighter against his chest. His voice was full of anger, but Oliver couldn’t care less about it. 

Glancing down at him, Oliver nodded once. “Absolutely.”

He knew it’d take a lot of time with Felicity curled up in his arms for him to forget how her face looked as it contorted in pain, the sounds she’d made and the way her body had crumbled into his arms, but she was  _okay_. And he had all the time in the world to hold her. No one was ever going to take that away.


	53. "Go to Hell" (Arrow Out of Context)

anonymous asked: #14 please? I live for angsty Olicity jsksks

_“Go to hell.”  
_

_“All in good time, I’m sure.”_

* * *

 

Darhk’s hand isn’t around her neck. It’s not. But it feels like it is. Felicity can see his open fist in front of her, her eyes blurring with tears as she tries to take in a breath of the chilling breeze that blows her hair around. “Please,” she manages to wheeze out.

Damien cocks his head to the side, as if he’s considering her plea, but then she sees his fist tighten. A moment later, her neck feels the intention, her throat collapsing on itself and her nails clawing at the fingers she can feel around her neck but aren’t really there. Her mind is too panicked and instinctive to rationalize that it’s a pointless fight, and she scratches her own skin instead, drawing blood. Her legs hang over the railing, kicking wildly for purchase and finding none.

His laughter combines with her sobs, and somehow her stubbornness is enough to silence her own cries, not wanting to give him the amusement he so clearly is getting. She grits her teeth instead as she begins to see black spots taking over her vision. Lifting her chin, Felicity keeps her eyes on Damien Darhk.

“Go to hell,” she chokes.

She’s satisfied to see his face drop, his laughter immediately halting. Darhk raised his eyebrows, nodding. “All in good time, I’m sure.” He says with a shrug. “I’m sorry that mine is the last face you have to see. Your husband and son will miss you…I’ll let them know you said goodbye.”

The next thing she knows, she’s falling. The pressure around her neck is lifted as Darhk releases his hold on her.

Felicity has a moment of relief, she can breathe again, but it’s short lived. She manages to take in a couple of deep breaths before she hits the river, before the impact and the shock of the freezing water overtake her senses and her world goes as dark as the water swirls around her face.

Above her, Oliver is catching up to the scene just in time to see her fall. “No!” He screams, catching Darhk’s attention. He races towards the railing, only seeing tiny ripples coursing through the river where his wife had landed.

Damien snaps his fingers sarcastically, “Damn,” he sighs, fake sympathy thick in his voice, “ _just_ missed her. You know…Oliver, I must say, your timing is significantly sad.”

Oliver turns to glare at Darhk, “I  _will_ kill you.”

“Oh Oliver,” Damien groans as if he doesn’t believe it. But Oliver does…he knows it with complete certainty. “I’ll give you some time to grieve.” The man disappears as silently and as quickly as he’d arrived to take Felicity, appearing in their apartment without  _any_ warning, because he should have been dead already. 

Darhk was the last threat that Oliver was prepared for, which made the sting of it so much sharper.

With the threat of Darhk gone, for now, Oliver’s heart fills with an overwhelming weight. His body and instincts act before his head can catch up, and suddenly he’s dropping his bow. He pulls off his quiver too, and then he’s climbing over the railing.

Oliver takes a deep breath, and dives in head first after her.

* * *

As Felicity starts to wake up, the first thing she’s aware of is the smell of coffee and pancakes. It fills her nose, as does the familiar sounds of her home. 

Their home.

Like so many mornings before, she can hear noises coming from the kitchen as her husband and son make breakfast.

She knows that William must have gotten out of bed before his father, because she can hear pop music filling the apartment. If she woke up to jazz, she knew Oliver had commandeered the kitchen first. She also knows that since she can hear pop music, breakfast won’t be  _quite_ as good. William is still learning to cook, and his father is a wonderful teacher, but most of his attempts come out a little burnt. Not that she cares, she loves both of her boys’ cooking.

Plus they both know how to make her coffee right, which is the most essential thing. She moves to sit up, and her body objects, her muscles aching and her head pounding. She groans, rolling over with a deep breath. “Oh,” she yelps, seeing Oliver beside her.

He’s asleep, lying on his side with his hand outstretched towards her waist as if he’d been holding her before she wiggled out of his arms in her sleep. The first thing she sees though are his injuries.

Her husband is pretty banged up. His hands and arms are littered with scrapes and bruises, and his  _face_ …she frowns as she analyzes his features. It is her favorite face in the world, and her heart clenches at how hurt it is. He has a deep gash on his eyebrow, a bruised eye that makes her wonder if it’s swollen shut, and a busted lower lip, right over her favorite spot to kiss.

Felicity’s hand reaches out to touch his cheek as she tries to nestle her way back into his arms. Her fingers are light as feathers, grazing one of the only areas on his face that doesn’t have a scratch or a bruise. And Oliver jolts awake anyway, making her jump. 

He’d become a fairly heavy sleeper ever since they got back together…as if being married to her gave him some peace.

She  _used_ to be familiar with the nightmares and jolts, but not lately. “I’m sorry!” She blurts as she watches his eyes widen, darting around the room. Her hand recoils at his reaction, seeing his instincts take over, looking for a threat.

“Hey. Felicity?” He gasps, “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Felicity nods, biting her lip. “I’m surprised you’re still in bed,” she teases, sliding her fingertips over his chest, knowing that he hardly ever sleeps in. He’s usually up with the sun and has to come back into their room a few hours later to drag her out of bed. “Are you okay?”

Her husband sighs, pulling her tighter into his arms, “I am now. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Felicity’s eyebrows furrow, “why? What do you mean?”

She sees the pain in his eyes, the brokenness, and it makes her heart race wildly. “What’s wrong?” She panics.

He glances down at her, his eyes searching, and she reaches up to touch his chin. Finally, he shakes his head. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Felicity frowns, realizing that she isn’t sure. She’d woken up like every other morning, thoughts and familiarity of her husband and son filling her hazy head. “I…” She tries to think back to the night before, but she comes up blank. “I don’t know…”

“Damien Darhk came, Felicity. And he took you away…he took you from us…and I was too late to save you.”

“But Oliver…I’m right here.”

“You’re not,” he mumbles, so quiet that she’s not even sure she heard it. His eyes meet hers evenly, begging her to understand. “I was too late, Felicity. You…Damien dropped you and you…I couldn’t save you. And I am so sorry.” His voice breaks, and he squeezes his eyes shut, tears slipping down his cheeks.

She doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say, and she can’t form any coherent questions that would get her a more direct answer.

Oliver’s eyes fly open suddenly, unexpected anxiety in his gaze. He’s staring at her in fear, his expression intense.  _Panic_. It’s a look that doesn’t fit their quiet bedroom on a sunny morning. One that never should.

His hands grab hers, and he pulls her fingers to his lips. “You have to wake up, Felicity,” he mumbles, his voice louder, alarmed.

Her eyebrows furrow, only getting more confused. “Oliver, what are you…”

“I still need you,” he pleads desperately, “Felicity, I still need you!”

* * *

“Come on, Felicity, open your eyes. Baby, please. Please open your eyes.” Oliver has her on the rocky edge of the river, pushing her hair away from her skin with shaking fingers.

Her breathing is faint and slow but it’s  _there_. He’s already gotten the water out of her lungs, she’d coughed it out, which he knew was a good sign. But she just didn’t  _look_ …

 _No_.

She’s breathing. She’s  _alive_. She just needs to wake up. 

Oliver cradles Felicity to his chest, tucking her arms together and holding her tightly. He feels her shiver, and he curses the leather he’s wearing, knowing it isn’t doing anything to help warm her up. Her lips are blue. Her skin is so pale. But she’s shivering, her eyelids are fluttering. 

His hands grab hers, and he pulls her fingers to his lips. “You have to wake up, Felicity,” he mumbles, praying that she can hear him. 

“I still need you,” he pleads desperately, “Felicity, I still need you!”


	54. "I Think if The Huntress Shows Up, You Should Kick Her Ass" (Arrow Out of Context)

greensmoak00 asked: has anyone requested 12 yet?? i’d love to see this as an olicity oneshot!

Arrow Out of Context Part 2!

_“I think if The Huntress shows up, you should kick her ass.”_

* * *

 

Felicity kept her wrist straight as she let her fist connect with the punching bag in the bunker. Exhaling, she hit it again. And again. And again, until she was out of breath and could feel the sweat on her chest.

Shaking out her legs, she started to pull off her boxing gloves and glanced up at her computers. The source of her frustration. But if she was being honest with herself, she knew that it was much more than that.

Helena Bertinelli had escaped from prison five years ago, only to be “recruited” by A.R.G.U.S. This morning, she’d somehow escaped from Lyla’s security too, and the first thing she’d done was call Felicity’s husband for help. She wouldn’t say where she was, but she wanted a passport and a plane ticket heading somewhere remote and tropical.

Felicity wanted to turn her back over to Lyla, expecting her husband to agree that meeting Helena’s demands was ridiculous. Surprisingly, Oliver wasn’t on the same page.

He seemed to be struggling with what to do. The answer was pretty simple to Felicity; find Helena and give her back to A.R.G.U.S. Or let the government handle their own fumble. In  _her_ opinion, this was none of their business. 

Oliver apparently didn’t agree. 

So Felicity had fabricated a passport and bought Helena a ticket to Nevis, an island in the Caribbean with an ironically named “Lovers Beach.” If Felicity had to send her somewhere, she chose to let the The Huntress hide out on Lovers Beach alone. 

They were waiting to hear back from Helena on where to drop everything off. But it didn’t sit right, so Felicity was searching for her, anyway. Lyla had helped, sending her coordinates of where Helena could be hiding. Still, it was frustrating. It was frustrating that Oliver somehow felt the need to protect Helena, even against his wife’s and Lyla’s requests. And it was frustrating that she couldn’t find The Huntress. Her irritation had been building all day, getting under her skin in that ‘I can’t sit still, everything makes me want to punch something’ kind of way, which led her to the punching bag.

She stretched her arms above her head as she walked back to her computers, sighing. Just as she took her seat, checking on the progress, she heard their footsteps coming back. Roy came in first, a toddler on his hip, followed by William.

Felicity smiled, more anxiety was lifted at the sight of her children than what the punching bag had done for her. “Hi,” she greeted them, spinning in her chair.

Her daughter wiggled out of Roy’s arms, bee-lining straight for Felicity and launching herself onto her mother’s lap. Felicity huffed, catching the three year old with practiced ease. “Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?”

Lydia nodded, “Roy let William drive in the parking lot,” she said excitedly, and Felicity heard Roy and William groaning from behind her.

Felicity pinched her lips together to keep from laughing, because it was so obvious that the boys had tried to keep Lydia from ratting them out, but of course it was the first thing Lydia said. She was Felicity’s daughter, after all. Blabbing was in her genes.

“Oh he did, did he?” Felicity drawled, narrowing her eyes at her friend. “Roy Harper, he is barely fifteen,” she tried to lecture. It was hard to even pretend to be upset about it though, not when she noticed the ear to ear grin on her step-son’s face. Rolling her eyes, Felicity turned back to Lydia, “and what did you do?”

“Uncle Roy bought me a mermaid doll.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows, nodding. “That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?”

Her three year old rolled her eyes, the exact same sass she’d learned form her mother. Sometimes it made Felicity cringe, but most of the time it made her proud. Her kids were forces to be reckoned with, and Lydia was already so headstrong and outspoken. “’Course, momma!”

Laughing, Felicity kissed her cheek, giving her a tight hug. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Roy, giving him an appreciative smile for everything he’d done today. She’d needed some time alone to work, and Roy had not only volunteered to take Lydia and William off her hands, but he’d put the biggest smiles on their in the process.

Roy just winked. “How’s the Bertinelli hunt coming along?”

Felicity groaned loudly, resting her forehead on Lydia’s shoulder. Lydia patted the top of her head, turning back to Roy and shaking her head, “that means not good, Uncle Roy.”

Roy laughed, “thanks, peanut. Anything I can do to help?”

“You could convince my husband that this is ridiculous.” Felicity grumbled.

“Mm,” Roy hummed sympathetically, “yeah, tried that. You know what arguing with Oliver is like when he has his head set on something.”

Felicity sighed, because yes, she knew all too well. “I don’t get it,” she breathed, helping Lydia as she wiggled around, facing forward and resting her back against Felicity’s chest. Felicity wrapped her arms around her, “We’re basically aiding and abetting a criminal, and for what?”

Roy shrugged, “Oliver’s peace of mind? The Huntress knows his secret, and she’s out there. He wants her as far away as possible.”

She hesitated, “A.R.G.U.S is good enough, isn’t it?”

“She escaped from prison  _and_ A.R.G.U.S. Lyla said she’s not a threat anymore. She’s not going to hurt anyone, she’s just…serving her sentence, so in Oliver’s mind…the further away from his family she is, the better.”

A twinge of guilt hit her. She’d made it very clear to her husband that she didn’t agree with this plan, giving him plenty of snark and cold shoulders as she questioned why he cared about helping Helena. Ever since Helena called this morning, Felicity had felt uneasy, blaming Oliver in the back of her mind, and she was finally realizing that it might be some displaced apprehension.

Of course, it wasn’t in Oliver’s nature to tell her what Roy was subtly trying to tell her now. That Helena was still a threat. Even if she didn’t want to kill Oliver or anyone else, she could always expose him. And then Oliver could be taken away. She was a threat to their family…to the life they’d built.

It wasn’t surprising that Oliver didn’t want to worry her, and she felt some her frustration fading as she quieted her insecurities. It might have been silly with two kids and five years of marriage under them, but something about Helena had always bothered her. The woman got under her skin. For a whole list of reasons.

Felicity sighed, nodding to Roy as she rested her cheek on Lydia’s head. “Momma,” the toddler whispered, tapping Felicity’s hand comfortingly where it rested on her little belly…somehow sensing the unease in her mother.

“What, baby?” Felicity mumbled back, kissing her temple.

“I think if The Huntress shows up, you should kick her ass.” 

“Lydia Harper Queen!” Felicity gasped, her head snapping up in surprise.

Her daughter scrambled in her lap, her eyes widening as she took Felicity’s face between her tiny hands, “Uncle Roy said you would!” she screeched.

Felicity’s face was squished and she knew she looked ridiculous, but it didn’t stop her from leveling Roy with a glare. She and Oliver had been so careful not to swear ever since Lydia learned the skill of passive listening. Seriously, the kid was a sponge, she absorbed and remembered everything. “Roy Harper,” Felicity reprimanded him in her best ‘mom voice’, her words muddled through her squished lips, “did you teach my kid a curse word?”

Lydia burst out laughing, her hands falling from Felicity’s face as she fell into a fit of giggles. “You sound  _so_ silly, momma!”

Felicity narrowed her eyes at Roy, catching Lydia before she fell off the chair. She quirked an eyebrow at Roy, waiting for an answer. He rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn’t know she heard that!” He defended himself, “Oliver called me while we were shopping, and he wanted to know if you’d mentioned anything about being upset…with all the Helena stuff…I told him that you hadn’t, but that if she showed up, I wouldn’t be surprised if you, you know, kicked her…yeah,” Roy sighed, “I definitely taught her that,” he finished, cringing.

“Roy!” Felicity pointed a finger at him, “Oliver’s going to kill me!” Then she reached down to Lydia, getting her attention and slipping a finger under her chin. “Hey, I don’t like when you say that, okay honey? It’s not a nice word. Remember how we talked about mean words?” She frowned, imagining her daughter being  _that_ kid a preschool, the one who teaches all her friends the naughty words.

Lydia’s lips pulled to the side as she thought about it, “okay,” she shrugged, “Lydia won’t say ‘ass’ anymore, momma!” She squeaked, wiggling down from Felicity’s lap and running towards William on the couches.

They watched her climb onto William’s lap without any more grievances, silently settling into her brother’s arms. Lydia leaned into William’s chest the way she’d sprawled out on Felicity, watching whatever baseball game he was streaming on his phone, appearing to forget about it already. But Felicity knew better.

Roy lifted his hands in the air, “I didn’t know she was listening!” He tried again, his lips curving into a smile that he tried to hide.

“She hears  _everything_!” Felicity hissed quietly, her eyes widening, remembering a particularly embarrassing morning when she and Oliver had thought they’d woken up before their kids, thinking they had a little time to spend in bed together…only to be interrupted by Lydia, swinging the door open without warning, her tiny voice excited as she screeched,  _“Is it wake-up time? I thought I heard you guys!”_

“She’s like a…a little toddler  _bat_ or something.”

Roy just shook his head, pulling out his phone as he grumbled, “I’m sorry… Don’t worry,  _I’ll_  tell Oliver that his daughter broadened her vocabulary today.”


	55. "I Love You. Do You Understand?" (Arrow Out of Context)

severefangirlfeels asked: Has anyone requested 20 yet?? I really want to see what you have for that!

Arrow Out of Context Part 2!

_“I love you. Do you understand?”_

* * *

 

Her toes were icicles. That was Felicity’s waking thought as she woke up with a groan. She pouted, adjusting the blankets around herself until she was cocooned inside. Oliver liked to keep their bedroom freezing. Something about spending years on a deserted island made it hard for him to sleep unless the room was the same temperature…she didn’t know.

Most of the time, she didn’t care, because his body was a furnace, and he never complained about her unending need to cuddle. Rolling over, she broke her hands free, reaching across the cool sheets to find him, coming up empty.

With a frown, she squinted one eye open, seeing that he wasn’t in bed. She sighed, keeping a blanket wrapped around herself and heading for the kitchen. Sometimes his nightmares, even though they were less often now, would jolt him awake and he’d need to move. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wake up alone when they’d first taken off to travel the world together. But she’d gotten used to him having a normal sleep habits lately.

She checked the kitchen first, peering over the counter top to see if he was sitting on the couch. As her eyes adjusted to the dark apartment, she picked the blanket up, freeing her feet so she could walk down the hallway to William’s room. The door was open as always, and he had a nightlight that illuminated the whole room.

Realizing that Oliver wasn’t in there, she headed for Raisa’s room, since it was the only room in the apartment she hadn’t checked. Felicity hesitated outside the door, hearing Raisa’s gentle snoring and assuming that Oliver wasn’t in there.

Sighing, she headed back for their bedroom, wondering where she’d left her phone. It was plugged in on the kitchen counter, but she didn’t have any messages from him. Felicity bit her lip, thinking that he could have gone for a walk or something, but that probably meant he’d had an especially bad nightmare.

Deciding to wait a while longer until she called him, Felicity carried her cell back to their bedroom, tucking it into her blanket burrito and scurrying back to bed. As she came into the room, her eyes were better adjusted to the darkness, and she noticed the note on his pillow.

_Felicity—at the bunker. Hopefully I’ll be back before you wake up or have a chance to miss me too much._

_I love you._

_-Oliver_

She frowned. Why would he go to the bunker? And why wouldn’t he leave more of an explanation? Also, why would her husband of one week not want to be in bed with her? Felicity  _loved_ their bed. She’d always struggled with mornings, but it was especially hard to handle when there was a shirtless Oliver Queen in bed with her. Knowing that that man was her  _husband_ for the past eight days had only magnified her refusal to accept crazy things like work, or responsibilities… or clothes.

Tossing the blanket aside, Felicity didn’t bother changing out of her yoga pants or his over sized sweatshirt. She was way too comfy, and she slid on her slippers for good measure. Then she texted Raisa to let her know that she was leaving, explaining that Oliver had left and was fine, but she wanted to check on him, and that they’d probably both be back before she or William woke up. She knew that Raisa would sleep through her phone vibrating with the message, but not through William having nightmares or the apartment catching on fire, or anything like that.

She was so tired. It was late enough that the sun hadn’t come up yet, but early enough that birds were just starting to wake up. Glancing at the clock on her dashboard, she realized that she’d had no idea what time it was. Almost 4:00. Damn, that was early, even for Oliver. Even for the mayor on a Monday morning. With everything going on…it was difficult enough to find moments for themselves, which was why it was so troubling to her that he’d leave in the middle of the night instead of waking her up if something was wrong.

When she got to the bunker, she heard the familiar sound of arrows whizzing through the air and landing in the cement wall. She sighed, seeing exactly what her ears had been expecting; Oliver shooting at tennis balls.

It didn’t compare to the salmon ladder. God, nothing compared to the salmon ladder. Or that thing he did with the giant tire and a sledgehammer. But seeing the relaxed look of concentration on his face whenever he practiced his shooting was also nice. He wasn’t aiming at threats. The balls weren’t bleeding targets, and they didn’t shoot back. It allowed Oliver to  _relax_ as he fired his arrows, maybe even enjoying himself.  _Usually_. But apparently not tonight. She clocked the tension in his shoulders first, then the intense expression on his face, his eyes narrowing and his lips a hard line.

His head tilted towards her as she came down the stairs and through the bunker, sitting down in a chair at the conference table. He just sighed, shooting one more arrow when the machine fired another ball. Then he turned it off and glanced at her, his apology on his face before it reached his mouth. “I thought you’d still be asleep.” He offered.

She smiled at him, reaching out her hand. “I got cold.”

He frowned at that, setting his bow on the table and taking her hand. He bent down in front of her, making a face as he squeezed her chilly fingers. And she chuckled when he brought them to his lips, blowing on them in an attempt to warm her up. “You didn’t have to come down here,” he mumbled, “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked.

Oliver shook his head, “No. Just…restless.”

Felicity nodded towards the fifty or so tennis balls pinned to the wall, raising an eyebrow and wondering if this was about Rene or the team, “did that help?”

He winced, “no.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “well,” she whispered, scooting in her chair so she was closer to him. “Tell me.” Staring up at her, Oliver pursed his lips, obviously not wanting to share. In his hesitation, Felicity rolled her shoulders nervously. “Oliver,” she mumbled, “as your brand new bride, I’m trying not to be offended here that you snuck out of our bed to come play with your arrows in the middle of the night.” Her voice was teasing, but they both knew there was a hint of insecurity behind the words.

The look her gave her was unamused. “Felicity, having you curled up in my arms and watching you fall asleep is one of the highlights of my day. Always. Maybe even the best part.”

She bit her lip, grinning down at him. “So…no regrets? you didn’t run away to hide down here and plot out a divorce strategy with that lawyer lady?”

The next look he leveled her with was even  _more_ unamused. “First of all, Jean would probably quit if she thought I was stupid enough to want to divorce you. And second of all, I don’t want a divorce. And…can we actually just stop saying that word all together?” He frowned, “it’s not gonna happen.”

“Okay, good,” she smiled brightly at him, “I’d hate to think you got cold feet  _after_ the wedding. Yikes,” she cringed, making a face.

His eyes were clear and open, staring up at her, giving her thighs a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to funny for me,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But I don’t regret anything about our life. Not now and not ever.” Then he bit his lip as he analyzed her, ignoring her pitiful attempts at making a joke out of her fears when she’d woken up to find their bed empty, missing him. He stared at her for another moment, his eyebrows furrowing before he mumbled, “I love you. Do you understand?” 

His voice was so quiet that she barely heard him. But she knew what he was asking.  _You know I love you and I always will, right? You know that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?_

She nodded, giving him a smile that was much more genuine and ten times less worried. His words and the look on his face instantly silencing her pointless worries. “Yeah…” she whispered, “I love you, too.” With a wink, Felicity cupped his face. “So,” she sighed, slumping her shoulders, leaning down towards him. “What are you doing down here?”

“Shooting,” he mumbled back, pushing himself up a little bit as she got closer, his lips seeking hers. 

She was going to kiss him. She’d planned on it, but his answer was unsatisfying, so she skimmed her nose against his with a low hum. “And what have you been  _thinking about_  while you were shooting, if not divor- if not that word I said before?”

He grinned, “the  _opposite_ of that word,” he breathed, moving towards her lips again. “I was thinking that my wife is absolutely  _perfect_.”

Felicity pulled back before he could kiss her, narrowing her eyes at him. “Oh yeah? Then why’d come down here, to this dark bunker all alone, instead of being in bed with that perfect wife of yours?”

He raised an eyebrow and, oh yes, there was definitely something he didn’t want to tell her. “I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oliver,” she cocked her head to the side, seeing through his bullshit. He was such a good liar when he had to be. Enough to evade prison and convince the world that he wasn’t the Green Arrow. Yet he somehow  _sucked_ at lying to her. It was one of her favorite things about him, actually.

He rolled his eyes, “fine.” Standing up, Oliver pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. He rested his hand against the table, his palm flat on the glass and his wedding band glinting off the light.

Felicity hummed, a happy little sound to match the satisfied, peaceful smile that spread across her face. It somehow kept slipping her mind that they were very literally, totally, legally  _married_ now. Every time she forgot about her own ring, she’d stare at it for a couple of minutes, appreciating the simple and honest promise it held. But the calm feeling washed over her even more when she’d notice Oliver’s, the thing on his finger that told everyone in the world he was  _hers_.

For the past week, at least once or twice a day, she’d  _forget_. And then Oliver would slip his fingers between hers, and she’d feel his band, or he’d talk with his hands like he always did, and she’d see it on his finger. And the reminder would make her sigh happily, a blissful smile crossing her lips.

He stared at her, and she met his gaze, her eyebrows furrowing, “what?”

“That!” He waved at her face. 

“What?” she asked again, laughing, her voice getting playfully defensive. “I like that we’re married! What’s the problem?”

He frowned, “I can’t wear it.”

Felicity froze, “your ring?” When he nodded once, she tried to relax her heart that immediately wanted to jump out of her chest. “Well, why not?”

He glanced at her, at the soft and sad tone of her voice, his eyes sympathizing. Oliver gestured to the tennis balls. “Archery is…so precise. Even the slightest difference can throw everything off. Ever since I’ve been wearing the ring under my suit-”

“Wait,” she interrupted, “you wear your ring under your suit?” He just nodded, and she didn’t realize she was starting to smile. She hadn’t really thought about it. Oliver and John had only gone out in the field a couple of times since the wedding, wanting to keep a low profile. But the idea of him out there, fighting for the city and saving lives while he had his ring on was irrationally heartwarming. And somehow very sexy. She let out a breathy laugh, muttering, “why is that kind of turning me on right now?”

Oliver groaned, dropping his head into her lap. “That’s the problem!” he exclaimed, “I know how much you like it…seeing it…” he glanced up at her, pointing an accusatory finger, “except, don’t think I’ve forgotten that you were the one opposed to this marriage in the first place. But…I love having this band on my finger. I love being married to you. I love everything it represents, and I love  _you_.”

Felicity paused, trying to remember what the problem was, before she got distracted. The ring was effecting his shooting accuracy somehow? She hadn’t noticed. He and Dig had done just fine on their own. “Does having it on bother you?” she asked, “I mean-in a literal sense, not an emotional one, like, wearing the ring feels different when you’re shooting?”

He nodded, and she felt a little bit better to see the relief on his face as she understood. She shrugged, it made sense. In a scientific way, even the the smallest difference in weight that the ring caused would effect his aim, the feeling of the ring between his fingers probably changed how it felt to hold his bow.

“Oliver…” she breathed, “you don’t have to come down here and brood about these things anymore, just talk to me. It’s okay. You can take it off when you’re in the field,” she shrugged, he wore gloves anyway, it’s not like anyone would even know it was missing. Or that the Green Arrow had a wedding ring to wear in the first place. In fact, it was probably  _best_ that the public didn’t somehow realize the city’s vigilante was sporting some new bling.

That’d be too much of a coincidence to let slide.

Her husband sighed, turning his cheek and resting his head on her thigh again. She moved her hands to his hair, not complaining about the way he melted into her. The Oliver she knew a couple of years ago would have never leaned on her or anyone like this. He never would have curled himself around her in such an open and vulnerable way. Her husband held onto her now, his hands gripping her waist, his fingers skimming to her thighs and back. 

“It’s not just that,” he said, “it’s not just that you like seeing the ring on my finger.” His next words came out grumbled, reminding her of a child not getting his way. “ _I_ don’t want to take it off.”

“Oliver,” she chuckled, and he looked up at her, hearing the amusement in her voice.

He frowned, “it’s not funny.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the pout on his lips. She kissed him, wanting to feel those adorable lips. And he huffed, “I didn’t come down here to brood, either. I was practicing; getting used to using my bow with the ring on. It…it’s just me and Dig now, and I don’t want to take any risks. I can’t.”

Felicity just shook her head, “okay. Listen, if you’re worried enough about this that you got out of bed in the middle of the night…a bed with  _me_ in it,” she said, raising her eyebrows as if the idea was ludicrous, making him laugh. “Then let’s make a deal. You take the ring off when you’re out on the streets,” he narrowed his eyes at that, and she held a finger up to stop him from arguing, “ _but_ ,” she continued, “you can spend some time, every day, using your bow. Eventually it’ll feel normal and you won’t even notice the difference.  _Then_ you can wear your ring under the leather.”

He eyed her, “why do you always come up with such simple solutions to problems that felt so heavy to me?”

Felicity beamed, wrapping her arms around his neck, “because I’m the best wife ever?” she whispered.

Oliver hummed his approval, brushing his lips against hers. “You won’t hear me disagreeing with that. Ever.”

Felicity giggled as he kissed her, pulling her out of her chair and into his lap. “Home? My toes would really like to warm themselves up on your legs.”

He grinned as if he wanted nothing more, nodding, “home.”


	56. Post 6x19 (Arrow Out of Context)

**erika-amber asked: Could you do 5 please!!?! From the arrow season 2 out of context!**

Arrow Out of Context Part 2! 

_“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out what’s wrong with Oliver.”_

_“You’d be the first.”_

(Post 6x19 fic!)

* * *

 

“What are you doing down here?”

Felicity’s head snapped up from the drawer she’d been rummaging through in the bunker, her eyes widening as she glanced at John. She gaped at him for a moment, “what are  _you_ doing here?”

Diggle narrowed his eyes at her, “I came to pick up a few things. I didn’t think you’d be here… Curtis told me Oliver kind of kicked you off the team.”

“Mm,” Felicity nodded once, straightening her shoulders. “Well, it wasn’t really a team with just the two of us.”

John shook his head, “you and Oliver…you’ve always been a team, Felicity.” 

“You were on his team before I was, Dig. And look at you now. I haven’t heard from you in, what…two weeks? Did your new buddy Curtis also tell you that my husband thinks it’s a good idea to go after Diaz alone?”

John sighed, glancing away from her, “yeah, he might’ve mentioned that.”

“So…are you working with them now or something?” She cringed at how petty she sounded, but the irritation had been bubbling up ever since Oliver told her he didn’t want her helping him as Overwatch anymore. She couldn’t help but think that if John had never left…Oliver never would have made this decision.

“I’m working at A.R.G.U.S.”

Felicity snorted, “right, how is that going?” When John didn’t answer, she planted her feet and lifted her chin. He sighed, heading for the back room. As soon as he was gone, Felicity flipped on one of her monitors and tried to pull up thermal imaging of the building Oliver was in. He’d gone after Diaz’s men, but with a promise of handling this better, he’d told her where he was going and what he was doing, hoping that would at least ease her worries.

Boy, was he wrong. 

She didn’t have to  _interfere_ …unless she really needed to. She could let him work alone and just  _observe_ from her chair. She knew Oliver wouldn’t like it, but he’d also decided that she shouldn’t be Overwatch anymore without giving her any say in it, so…

Knowing where he was, having the address, was so much better than watching him on the news. At least here, she didn’t feel helpless. She wasn’t blind. She wouldn’t lose him like they’d lost Laurel.

It terrified her to think that she’d stepped away from the team, and their friend had died. One of her biggest regrets, one of the things that would always haunt her, was wondering whether or not she could have made a difference, if there was something from behind her keyboard that she could have picked up on using the prison’s security cameras the night Damien killed her. If there was a trail between Andy and Darhk, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would have found it. She could have changed everything about what happened the night Laurel died. But being away from the team meant that she didn’t even have a chance to  _try_.

‘What if’ was never a fair game to play. She’d accepted that. She knew that there was no point in tormenting herself for Laurel’s death. Not anymore. But Oliver’s death? If something happened to him while she was…anywhere but in this chair…she’d never forgive herself for letting him do this.

Diggle clearing his throat from behind her made her gasp, jumping to flip the monitors off. He stared at her pointedly as she turned around. “I’ll ask again, what are you doing here, Felicity?”

The spark of anger that rushed over her was meant for Oliver, meant for the legitimate fears that he had yet to recognize. But some of it could be for Diggle, too. “I’m trying to make sure Oliver doesn’t die, John. You know, like you should probably be doing, too.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before he answered. “He’s not helpless, Felicity. He was trained by Slade Wilson, Talia al-Ghul. He’s fought with the Bratva.”

She laughed once without humor, “yeah, and when he came home after all of that…you remember meeting the same broken man that I do, don’t you, Dig?”

John raised an eyebrow, seeing her point as he nodded. “He’s not going to become that guy again, Felicity. He still has William. He has you.”

“And he always will,” she argued back, “but I’m not here to play roulette with his life, John! Just because he  _can_ fight Diaz alone, and win, I’m sure…doesn’t mean he  _should_. It doesn’t mean he  _has_ to. It’s not a risk he needs to take. You and the others…you’re the reason he’s out there without backup.”

“So, you’re going behind his back to help him? How do you think that’s going to go over, Felicity?”

“Not well. But at least I’m not leaving him high and dry.”

“Like I did?”

“Yeah,” she snapped, her voice rising, “ _exactly_ like you did!” Felicity slumped into her chair as Diggle sighed, putting his hands on his hips without replying. She turned the monitors back on, not seeing the point of trying to hide it now.

As she stared at the screens, watching Oliver make his way through the building, looking for Diaz, John came over to sit on the desk in front of her, getting her attention. “You know why Oliver needs you?”

She scoffed, looking up at him in annoyance. “Hacking. Finding people. Protecting my team. Math. My brain. Science. Inventing trick arrows.” She rattled off the things she’d heard Oliver and the rest of the team praise her for. Her place was in the bunker, at the computer. She knew that, she  _loved_ that.

John laughed, nodding along, “yes. To all of that. Do you know what else, though?”

She cocked her head to the side, “what?”

“Your faith in him. In what he can do. You’ve always seen the good in him…the  _best_ in him. And Oliver has always listened to you. He fights for  _you_. He wouldn’t be The Green Arrow without you. Coming back here every night and knowing that you’re here, that you believe in him, it means everything to him. You’re his strength, Felicity.”

Biting her lip, she muttered “it’s not the same, John…” as she glanced back at the screen. It did feel good to know that Oliver needed her. They were partners. He loved her. And she knew that he appreciated her. But she couldn’t be the wife that sat at home and waited by the door so she could clean his wounds at the end of the night, if he came home at all. She couldn’t.

“I know,” John sighed, “I know this is hard for you, but I think Oliver needs this. He needs to remember what he’s fighting for, because it’s not about me, Dinah, Rene, or Curtis. He’s hurt that everyone left, and I know that what I said to him didn’t instill very much confidence… I have some things to figure out for myself…and then we can talk. But I still know Oliver, Felicity. He needs to figure out how to trust himself again.”

“And he can’t do that if I don’t let him…is that what you’re getting at?”

Diggle shrugged, “I think Oliver will realize sooner rather than later that he wanted you on the team for a reason. That he  _needed_ you for a reason. People have come and gone, but not you.”

“Or you,” she whispered, “until now, that is.”

John just sighed, his shoulders slumping. Before he could respond, Felicity’s phone chimed with a high pitched alarm, and she gasped, her hand darting out to pick it up. “What is that?” Dig asked.

“I planted a bug on Oliver’s suit. It checks his vitals…” her eyes met John’s, and then flew to the screen where she could see Oliver’s silhouette fighting someone. Her heart sank, wondering if it was Diaz. Whoever it was, they were laying into Oliver a little too harshly for her liking. His heart was racing, but he was struggling to breathe. “John…”

She heard him curse under his breath, and then he was moving, “I’m going.”

* * *

As soon as they came into the bunker, Felicity started towards them. Oliver was jogging down the steps ahead of Diggle, his eyes on her. She could tell that he had things to say, and she was sure that it was an issue with Dig coming to save him. But their minds were in the same place, and he moved towards her, not stopping until he felt her arms winding around his neck. Oliver slipped his hands into her coat, grabbing her waist and holding her against him as he kissed her without a word. Her hands slid down his neck and over his shoulders, then down his arms. She was checking him over, looking for injuries as she kissed him back.

Oliver shook his head with a sigh, “I thought we agreed-”

“It wasn’t an agreement, Oliver. You know that.”

He huffed, gripping his fingers against her hips a little more, holding on, “but I thought you understood-” She shook her head, cutting him off again, and he pursed his lips. “I can handle myself, Felicity. Diaz is not Damien Darhk or Slade Wilson. He’s not in a Mirakuru rage and he doesn’t have magic. He’s a thug.”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! It’s not about how evenly matched you are. Just one…just one mistake, one moment where you underestimate him, or you’re outnumbered and…”

“I made you a promise, I need you to trust that I will keep it. I need you to trust me.”

She shook her head, unsure about where to even start with explaining how flawed that promise was. She didn’t want to shake his confidence, to make him think that she doubted him, because then what if he doubted himself? But she also didn’t want him to continue making this promise that he couldn’t keep. There were too many variables for him to make the promise that he’d always come back. Ra’s al-Ghul had taught her that. Adrian Chase had reminded her of it. And even if Diaz was just a thug that Oliver was capable of taking down on his own, he couldn’t control other peoples’ actions. There were too many moving pieces. Too many things that could go wrong.

Oliver met her eyes, his eyebrows furrowing, “I don’t want you down here anymore, Felicity. I don’t want you working on this.” He said lowly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. Then he kissed the spot he’d touched, “I’m going to get changed. Wait for me to take you home, please?”

He waited for her to nod, and then he walked into the back room. Felicity stared after him, and then she glanced at John as he stepped down from the stairs. She gestured to where her husband had disappeared, “what the hell happened out there?” She asked in a whisper.

Diggle stared after Oliver, too. “I don’t know. Diaz was there. He had more men on the way, and he was beating into Oliver pretty good. I helped him get out, but he’s been silent ever since. He wasn’t even surprised to see me,” John let out a disbelieving laugh, “I think he might’ve been expecting you to do something like this.”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity huffed. “Something like what…stop him from getting beaten to death? What is going  _on_ with him?” She breathed, frustration bubbling up again. “He’s acting so weird about all of this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure out what’s wrong with Oliver.” John said, moving towards the back room. 

“You’d be the first,” she mumbled after him.

John tapped on the door frame, finding Oliver sitting in one of the seats, changed but taking a moment to himself before he headed back out there to face his wife again. Dig understood the feeling. “How you doing, man? It looked like Diaz got a couple solid hits in there.”

Oliver shrugged, “bruised ribs are nothing new for me, John.”

He laughed once, raising an eyebrow, “I know, Oliver. But getting beat up doesn’t hurt any less the hundredth time than it did the first time.” Oliver made a noise of agreement, flinching as he stood up. “Look… I know you don’t want my advice anymore, so let’s both just file what I’m about to say under ‘for Felicity.’ When Oliver just stared at him, he took it as an invitation to continue rather than one to get lost. “She’s scared, Oliver. She’s watched you do this for six years, she knows what you can do. Just…set your ego aside for a minute and put yourself in her shoes. Think about how it would feel if it was her out there, in danger, and you had no idea if she was okay or not.”

Dig was surprised when Oliver sighed, sinking back onto his chair. He hung his head, rubbing his wrists against his temples and closing his eyes. “Diaz’s operation is pitiful, John. He screwed himself by killing Cayden James. He has the muscle, he has the skill and the persuasion. The money,” Oliver clenched his fists, “but he doesn’t have the brain for what he’s trying to do.”

Staring at him, it finally clicked for Diggle. “Felicity’s the one who can stop him.”

Oliver nodded, glancing up at him. “Felicity could probably cut off the financial supply that Cayden set up for him. Most of his crew is being blackmailed, and she could probably amend most of that, too…”

John let out a breath, shaking his head, “then why the hell hasn’t she? Why are you benching her when she’s the one who can end this in ten seconds?”

“Because even if she stopped his operation, it wouldn’t be  _over_. Diaz runs off of unhinged anger and revenge. The target on her back would be huge, Dig. Diaz would  _kill_ her.”

“We can protect her.”

“What we!?” Oliver snapped, his face crumpling. “There’s no we, John. It’s just me…and I can’t keep her safe forever. If Felicity cuts off his supply, and he disappears…he’ll come back. For her.”

“Lyla and I can set you guys up in an A.R.G.U.S. safe house,” John offered.

Oliver gave him a look, “no offense to your wife, but every time we use those houses, they never turn out to be all that safe. And I need her to be  _safe_ , John. I need…”

A long moment of silence passed between them, and then John nodded. “I’ll come back. I’ll work with you to take down Diaz. The three of us…we’ll shut him down and put him behind bars before he even realizes Felicity was the one who stopped him, before he has a chance to retaliate.”

Oliver’s head fell into his hands. “No, I can handle it, Dig. I can stop Diaz. All I need to do is get close enough.”

John shook his head, “you need help, Oliver. Get some, before it’s too late.”

* * *

Felicity was curled up against his side on the couch, her feet tucked underneath her, and Oliver pulled the blanket down to cover her toes, knowing how cold her feet got. Yet she insisted on being barefoot, crinkling her nose at the thought of socks any time he suggested it. 

He smiled slightly, remembering one of their first nights together, when Felicity had carefully pressed her feet against his calves just as he was falling asleep, and he’d jolted at how cold they were. He’d opened his eyes to see her biting her lip; an innocent, apologetic look on her face. It was cute enough that he’d let her use his legs to warm her toes ever since.

Rubbing her shoulder, he listened to her hum, her nose nestling into his neck as she sighed. “Are you ready for bed?” he mumbled, pressing his lips against her forehead. She hummed again, her fingers gripping his shirt in a fist over his chest, scooting her body closer to his. He smiled, “you’re tired, honey.”

“Worrying about you makes me tired,” she groaned back.

Oliver glanced down at her, moving her hair away from her face. “We can talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” She let out a breath, nodding and holding on to him a little tighter.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled, a gentle chill moving over her body as he ran his fingers through her hair. He looked down at her, watching one of his favorite sights in the world. 

Felicity Smoak was a force to be reckoned with. Her passion and her beauty continually stunned him. Her strength and her intelligence always made him proud to be her husband. But there was something incredibly  _sweet_ about watching his wife fall asleep. 

“No more minutes,” he whispered back, kissing her temple before he gently pulled her into his lap. Ignoring the dull pain of a few bruises, he stood up from the couch and hoisted her into his arms. The days of her jarring awake when he did this were over. Now she didn’t even flinch, her eyes still closed, not the slightest bit surprised as he carried her. Oliver rolled his eyes as she grinned, cuddling into his chest. 

“You spoil me, Queen,” she practically purred. 

“You deserve it,” he mumbled back, only  _slightly_ sucking up to her for being a jerk lately. She was worried about him, but he was just as stressed over her safety. She wasn’t the one to take it out on, though. She was the one who deserved to be spoiled. To be carried to bed in his arms.

He walked to William’s door first, and his son shook his head at the sight of them. “Goodnight, buddy,”

“Night dad, night Felicity.”

“Goodnight William,” Felicity sighed, reaching her hand out to wiggle her fingers at him, “sleep tight.”

He was halfway to their bedroom when the doorbell rang, making him groan at the same time Felicity did. He brought Felicity to her side of the bed and laid her down, glancing at her as her eyes fluttered open. A pout immediately turned her lips downward as her eyebrows furrowed. He smiled, bending down to kiss her. “Be right back,” he mumbled against her lips.

Oliver jogged towards the door as another knock sounded. But then he slowed down, staring at the door and stopping completely. It suddenly occurred to him that with Diaz running the city, after tonight’s attack…the person on the other side of that door might not be a friend. 

He quietly headed for the kitchen, pulling out a kitchen knife, and creeping back to the door. He stopped just in front of it. To listen. Noting the silence, he moved to look out into the hallway, and then he gasped.

Swinging the door open, he stared with wide eyes at the guest. He still held the knife in his hand, but it was Felicity who spoke first. “Oh my god,” she breathed from behind him, making him spin around. 

She gave him an odd look, eyeing the weapon in his fist. But then she was hurrying to the door. “Roy,” she breathed, flinging herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

Roy hugged her back, smiling at him over Felicity’s shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at the knife. “Dig said you could use some help.”


	57. ARGUS Agents: Part 2 (Arrow Out of Context)

anonymous asked: 16 of the out of s2 context prompts plssss

Arrow Out of Context Part 2! 

_“You deserve someone better, who can harness that light that’s still inside of you, but I’m not that person and I never will be.”_

**Sequel to chapter 41!**

* * *

 

The first day he’d met Felicity Smoak, she’d been babbling to Roy Harper about all the reasons “kangaroos wig me out.” 

Oliver had paused at the fruit bowl in the A.R.G.U.S. mess hall, his hand on an apple, to listen to her. It was probably the most peculiar conversation he’d ever heard between two federal agents. Harper had responded about a kangaroo he’d pet at a zoo once, and Felicity had shuddered and warned him, very seriously, that kangaroos in the wild were not as friendly. Then she’d leaned closer to her friend, “they look evil.”

Oliver couldn’t help the way his lips pulled up in a smile. And he’d kept his eyes on her as he walked by, noting the way she twisted her fingers together. All of the new recruits were nervous on their first day of training. Most of them had a background with the military or at least experience in another branch of the government. But there were the rare few, like Felicity Smoak, who A.R.G.U.S. sought out.

It was clear that she was not here to become a soldier, and he thought he remembered Lyla mentioning a girl named Felicity coming onto the cyber security task force. The director has plucked her fresh out of MIT. He’d only been half listening, but a name like Felicity Smoak definitely rang a bell.

Still, all recruits had to undergo at least one week of training. Since he was in charge of teaching them, he wasn’t all that surprised to see her face after breakfast, when he’d walked into the room full of waiting new recruits. What had surprised him though was the smile Felicity gave him as he came in. 

Every face in the room was stern, focused…as they should be. But she smiled, her eyes nervous yet excited as they met his. She was a light in the middle of darkness, and he smiled back before he could stop himself.

Just as quickly, he’d glanced away, clearing his throat and jumping into the first session. He tried to push thoughts of Felicity out of his head, hoping no one noticed. He stole glances at her the whole first day, becoming more and more irritated with himself every time his eyes roamed over to her without thinking about it.

It caused him to be a little harder on her than the rest. 

Part of the problem was that he was worried she didn’t know how serious this job was. He was afraid that the babbling blonde who feared kangaroos didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into. But it was also his reaction to her that scared him. He’d been an A.R.G.U.S. agent for nearly a decade now, and he was used to a routine. He was familiar with combat, death, and orders. What he wasn’t comfortable with was getting distracted. Letting a pretty blonde make him smile in a way that felt foreign. 

Training week was over now, which meant he’d definitely be seeing less of her. She’d go on her way with the tech department, and he’d stay on his side of the building, continuing to train new soldiers and lead Director Michaels’ new Task Force-X. He knew he’d have his hands full with the group of criminals Lyla had scrounged up. “The worst of the worst,” if you asked her.

Today was their first mission with the Task Force, or The Suicide Squad, as Deadshot had coined it. 

He was out for an early morning jog, wanting to sweat out some of his nerves before he had to go save an American senator being held hostage. As soon as the squad was geared up, they’d be heading out. He also needed to clear his mind, because the way he’d gone back and forth over going to Felicity’s room the night before made him nervous. It’d kept him up half the night before he’d finally decided to stay put and get a couple hours of sleep. 

He’d never been so anxious before a mission. If he died, then he died. Everyone had a time to go, and he’d accepted long ago that his would probably be in the midst of this job. Yet, when that thought hit him last night, Felicity had popped into his head, and he’d realized that he really didn’t want to die without telling the adorable blonde that she’d unknowingly squeezed her way into his heart. That he  _liked_ her. 

But damn, did he need to get a grip. It was never a good idea to go out into the field distracted. He nodded to himself, picking up the pace as he ran through the woods. 

At first he thought the blonde ponytail swinging ahead of him on the trail was his mind playing tricks on him. But then as he rounded the corner, he caught sight of her again and he grinned. All thoughts of focusing left his mind…because…her  _ass_. She was dressed in a pair of skin tight floral leggings as she jogged ahead of him, her head bobbing, listening to whatever music was playing from the phone in her hand. He watched her for a moment, catching her lips moving to the song as she turned her head to the side, watching the trees passing by her.

He observed Felicity for another moment as she ran and danced, her eyes lifting up to the sky now to appreciate the light blue color, the sun peeking through the trees above her.

Oliver shook his head before dropping into a sprint, catching up to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to the ground, listening to her yelp in surprise as he landed on his back and skidded through the leaves. He settled her onto his chest, catching his breath. 

Felicity’s eyes darted down to his, lighting with rage, but he just lifted his hand to her hair, smirking as he pulled a leaf out of her blonde ponytail. “What the hell are you doing!?” She shrieked, scrambling off of him.

“You were distracted, agent Smoak, didn’t even see me coming. Did I teach you nothing last week?”

She huffed, pushing her hair back, her chest rising and falling quickly. As angry as she was, she still reached out to help him to his feet, and his eyes fell to her chest, appreciating the light layer of sweat on her skin and the freckle over her breast that he’d never had the pleasure of noticing before. “I wasn’t ready,” Felicity gasped, wiping sweat from her brow.

He raised an eyebrow at her, amused, “always be ready.”

Felicity nodded once, glancing around at the forest. “What are you doing out here? Don’t you have a mission today?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, surprised she even knew about it. “I was just on my way back.”

Felicity nodded too, “are you nervous? I mean, is it going to be an easy day at the office, or…?”

He cocked his head to the side, fighting and failing at containing a grin, “are you worried about me, agent Smoak?”

She pursed her lips as he teased her, “would that be such a surprise?”

Oliver’s eyes darted between hers, his smile falling, because despite his tone, she didn’t play along. She was serious. He stared at her for another moment. “I’ll be fine, Felicity.” He mumbled, thrown off guard because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had expressed concern for his life like that. Also, using her first name always made his heart feel lighter, made him  _melt_ a little bit, which was why he didn’t do it.

She stepped towards him, her tongue slipping out to lick her lips as she stared up at him. It was like she was trying to decide if she could believe it or not, and he held his breath…wondering how she’d feel if she  _couldn’t_. Did she actually care enough to worry about him? The look in her eyes said she did, and he suddenly felt the tension leaving his body.

The idea that she wanted him to be okay, to come back…for whatever reason, it made him sure that he would. He had to, because he was far from done with her, with learning new things about her and  _talking_ to her.

Felicity finally nodded, believing that he meant what he said. And he couldn’t shake the seriousness in her voice or the concentration in her eyes that morning. He’d thought about it for most of the day, picturing it every time he heard gun shots or wondered how long the mission would take. What surprised him the most though was that thinking about her didn’t distract him. It did the opposite, making him focus as they worked, pushing him to get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

At least, that was until they realized that the senator they had come to save was the one who’d set up the hostage situation in the first place. A presidential campaign in his sights, he apparently thought it would boost his revenue to have survived the ordeal.

Unfortunately, the team hadn’t seen the attack coming. Working their way through the building and taking down the senator’s hired mercenaries took longer than he’d expected it too. For a brief second, he’d wondered if Felicity had gotten word of the turn of events and if she was concerned. But then he had a gun in his face, and he snapped back into the moment, taking the man down and continuing through the corridors with Deadshot at his side.

When they finally made it out of the building with the senator in handcuffs, along with any mercenaries who’d survived, everyone on Task Force-X was accounted for…except for Mark Scheffer. Tires squealed in the distance, and Oliver cursed loudly. “Shrapnel, do you copy?”

“Uh, he’s gone, boss.” Carrie Cutter’s voice came back on the other end of the comm. 

Oliver let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Shrapnel…” he tried again, “turn the car around. Get your ass back here. Now!”

“I’m not going back!” Scheffer answered.

Lyla stepped in, directing him over his earpiece, “Oliver…you have to pull the trigger. He can’t get away.”

Oliver tightened his grip on the senator’s arm as he pushed the line to reach Scheffer again. “Shrapnel, you have ten seconds to start coming back.”

“No way, man.”

He kept Shrapnel on the line as he counted, his heart picking up speed as he heard the man pressing harder on the gas of the stolen car, trying to get out of range from the device planted in his skull. “Damn it!” Oliver shouted at he reached the end of his warning, pulling out the device and slamming it against his palm. 

Oliver heard the explosion through his earpiece first, blowing out his eardrum, and he let it. He opened his eyes and watched the smoke in the distance. “Come on, boss.” Deadshot mumbled, “we gotta get out of here.”

The first thing he did when they got back to base was march into Director Michaels’ office and slam the door. The following hour long debate with his superior was almost as draining as the mission had been. Oliver argued that they needed to find a better way to handle things that didn’t require him to kill his own team. Lyla argued that the the rules for the squad were clear, and it was their choice whether or not they followed them. He left without any new answers or solutions than he’d gone in with. And then first thing he saw, leaning against the wall as he came out of Lyla’s office, was Felicity.

She smiled gently at him, cautiously, and he guessed that she’d heard at least a portion of his argument with Lyla. “Hi,” she whispered.

Oliver just stared at her for a moment, but his mind was blank. Not having anything to say, he started to move past her, unwilling to recognize the clenching of his heart as embarrassment. Shame. “Hey wait,” she followed after him, grabbing his arm. “Oliver, slow down.”

He spun around to face her, and the way she cringed away wasn’t lost on him. “What, agent Smoak?” he mumbled.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head, “no. Not really.”

“Then let’s go…Let’s- let’s get of here. Go somewhere-” she babbled, “we can talk. Or, not talk. Or whatever.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and then he lifted his chin towards Lyla’s door, “were you listening?” She pursed her lips and nodded. “Then you know what I did today.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “what you  _had_ to do.”

“There’s always a choice, Felicity.”

“Oliver…” she sighed, reaching out to touch his forearm with her fingers. He closed his eyes, not having enough willpower left to fight it, how good it felt, and he leaned into her. Felicity’s hands ran up and down his arms, rubbing her palms against his skin, soothing him as she stepped closer. “I think I can help. Maybe I can come up with something that will keep your team in line without having to blow their heads off.”

At the crude image, the vivid picture of what he’d done to his agent, Oliver flinched, stepping away from her. Felicity squeezed her eyes shut, reaching out for him again, but he took another step back. “I’m sorry.” She blurted, “I didn’t mean for that to sound so…”

“No,” he breathed, “you’re right.”

“Oliver…” she whispered his name again, stepping towards him as he took another step away. She tried to smile, but it was much more grim than the first smile she’d offered him on that first day. It was nowhere near the beaming energy she’d had before. 

Had he taken that away?

It certainly felt like he had. 

“I like you,” she mumbled, lifting her shoulder, “a lot. And I want to help. Not just your team, but…you.”

For every bit of brightness she had to offer, he knew that he had ten more shades of dark inside of him. “You deserve someone better, who can harness that light that’s still inside of you, but I’m not that person and I never will be.” 

Her eyebrows shot up, “maybe _I_ should decide what I deserve, Oliver.” She argued, her tone offended.

Shaking his head, he started to walk away from her. The last thing he wanted was to fight with this girl in the middle of the hallway, as if he hadn’t brought her down enough in the two weeks he’d known her. “Hey,” she clipped, grabbing his hand to stop him. “For such an emotionless robot that you pretend to be, what happened today sure did  _hurt_ you. You care, Oliver. About people. About your team. And…maybe about me. People who don’t have any light left in them…they don’t  _care_.”

This time she was the one to turn and walk away, and he stared after her, her words replaying in his mind over and over.


	58. Post 6x20 (Arrow Out of Context)

the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl asked: #13 if you're still taking prompts?

Arrow Out of Context Part 2!

_“Once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.”_

(Post 6x20 fic!)

* * *

 

Felicity’s words circled his mind over and over, a never ending loop that had him spiraling downwards, his carefully constructed walls crumbling to the ground around him just like his city.

She was his glue. His foundation. His  _rock_. And she had warned him.

He didn’t listen.

_“Oliver, I love you. And I trust you, but this plan is crazy. What makes you think Anatoly will forgive and forget?”  
_

_“I’m hoping he doesn’t forgive and forget, honey. We need to find Diaz. Anatoly will take me right to him.”_

_A long silence filled the space between them, ringing through his ears in their apartment that felt so much more like home ever since she’d come to call it hers, too. “Diaz is not Slade Wilson, Ra’s al Ghul, Adrian Chase, or Damien Dark.” She argued, crossing her arms._

_He could see that she was getting upset, and he closed the distance, standing in front of her and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “I know,” he said, offering her another smile. “He’s a thug, Felicity.”_

_“Exactly, Oliver,” she snapped. “Slade had his revenge, Ra’s had a code, Adrian had a plan, and Damien had a method to his madness. Diaz has none of that.”  
_

_He stared down at her, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her. “Right,” he said carefully, “Diaz has narcissism…and that’s about it.”_

_She shoved him backward, pushing on his chest until he let go of her, “it’s not funny, Oliver! This isn’t a game to me.”_

_His eyebrows shot up, and he raised his hands in surrender, surprised by her temper. “Okay,” he nodded, “okay, you’re right. Felicity…you’re right. Diaz isn’t like the men we’ve been up against before.”_

_“You underestimating him is going to be what gets you killed.” She fumed, her anger bubbling up more than he’d seen it in a long time.  
_

_“I’m not underestimating him,” he defended gently, “I see him for what he is.”  
_

_“A thug?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.  
_

_Oliver hesitated, seeing that she was challenging him, that it wasn’t the answer she wanted, but he shrugged anyway. Because it was true. Diaz was child’s play compared to other people they’d encountered._

_His wife nodded, glancing away from him, “and how many thugs have you known who fight fair, Oliver?”_

_After that, she’d walked away, heading into their bedroom, leaving the door open for him. Always. And he knew that he could follow her. He could curl himself around her in their bed, hold her while they went back and forth like this for a few more rounds. Disagreements always felt better when she was between his arms…but he didn’t have time. He had a meeting with The Bratva to get to._

Step one had been clearing Anatoly’s debt. Getting him back into the graces of The Bratva. Step two was pretending to believe it was enough to mend their friendship.

He’d expected that Anatoly wouldn’t accept the olive branch. He couldn’t say he predicted getting tazed, but the outcome remained. Step three, of course, was getting himself in a room with Diaz. Even the fight he saw coming. If there was anything he knew about Ricardo, it was that the poor guy always had something to prove. And he always had to use his fists to do it.

Oliver never hoped that Diaz would keep his word. Men like him didn’t go by any kind of honor or respect…Felicity was definitely right about that. But he’d felt good, the whole thing had gone as he’d expected it to. He just needed Diaz to yield, and for Anatoly to realize that they were brothers, they’d always been brothers…and then he’d be exactly where he wanted to be. It was all working…until he’d felt Diaz stab him.

So now he stared at the wall of his holding room, his hand cuffed to a metal bar, and his wife’s words running through his head.  _“And how many thugs have you known who fight fair, Oliver?”_

He should have known better. Every mentor he’d had had drilled it into his skull; expect the unexpected. He’d  _known_ that…but his problem wasn’t that he’d underestimated Diaz. It was that he’d  _over_ estimated him. He’d expected the man to hold himself with the same pride and dignity as The Bratva. He’d expected his opponent to fight with the same honor and morality as The League of Assassins.

He’d kept telling Felicity that Diaz was nothing more than a thug. Yet he hadn’t walked into that battle prepared to fight a thug. He’d prepared as if he was about to face Ra’s on a mountaintop, when he should have had his eyes open and his instincts ready to fight a cheap-shooting loser.

_Thugs don’t fight fair._

On the other side of the door, Felicity was sneaking her way through the precinct. She’d called in a fake sighting of Black Canary and Spartan that half of the crooked cops took off to deal with, then she’d set off one of the armed doors on the other side of the building, distracting a few more. The security cameras were feeding a loop from an hour ago, so the hallway was clear.

Aside from the two stooges guarding the room where her husband was.

Having no more tricks up her sleeve, Felicity simply approached them, watching as a smile spread across Anatoly’s face and Black Siren arched an eyebrow. “Open the door.” Felicity demanded, ready to show Black Siren how her punch had improved since the last time her fist met the woman’s mouth.

Anatoly stepped aside, still smiling, even though Felicity was ready to knock some of his teeth out, too.

She glared, her eyes shifting from Anatoly to Black Siren. One guard dog was already yielding as soon as he’d seen her. But Black Siren was a little more hesitant. She didn’t want to get in trouble with her Diaz, and Felicity had a hard time holding in a sadistic laugh at the idea of Black Siren being his pet; one who barked, or screamed, on command…one who sat when told to sit and bit when told to bite.

The woman had already tried to kill Felicity once, and her friends a handful of times more. There was no point in playing nice now. Black Siren was a whole head taller than her, but it didn’t stop Felicity from lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, stepping close until she had to look up at her. “If I let you in there,” Black Siren seethed, “he’ll kill me.”

Shaking her head at the frightened, unbelievable tone, Felicity rolled her eyes. Did Quentin actually buy this act? She’d tried to play the same card when it was Adrian Chase’s thumb she was under.

But this woman was no caged bird. 

She could sing and shatter the eardrums of any man who tried to control her…going along with them was her  _choice_. It was plain to see. “You know,” Felicity said, stepping closer to her, “I’m sure you’re sick of Quentin comparing you to the Laurel from this earth. Trying to force you to be like her.” Black Siren’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she thought Felicity was sympathizing. A look flashed in her eyes as she stared down at Felicity; a predator who believed she had her prey exactly where she wanted it.

But she couldn’t be more wrong. “When I look at you, I don’t even see our Laurel. The Laurel I knew was full of compassion, motivation, and kindness. I think you know that from the moment I saw you…the night you came to the bunker claiming to be her…I didn’t see you as the Laurel I knew. Do you want to know why?” Felicity asked. Black Siren cocked her head to the side, listening. “Because you’re  _not_ her. You never will be. You’re a sick, sad woman and that’s the reason you align with men like Ricardo Diaz, Cayden James, and Adrian Chase.”

Black Siren scoffed, fighting not to be offended. “Telling me that I disgust you isn’t going to help you get into that room.”

A flash of anger ignited Felicity’s next words, “once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.” She shook her head, “I’ve watched every hero I know try to fight that darkness…slay their demons. But  _you?_ You  _are_ your demons. And I feel sorry for you.” Felicity exhaled, seeing that her words were melting the anger right off of her. “You don’t  _have_ darkness inside of you, Laurel. It  _consumes_ you.”

The woman in front of her was taking too long to get the hell out of her way, and Felicity was really considering how many options she had to remove her from the path to her husband. But Anatoly reminded her of his presence before she had to put any of her ideas into action.

He came up behind Black Siren, catching her neck in a choke hold that quickly had her eyes rolling back. As the woman passed out, Anatoly dragged her weight over to a bench along the wall, mumbling “your husband taught me that one,” as he left Black Siren in a slump.

Then he walked back over to the door, pulling out a set of keys and opening it for her.

Shouldering past Anatoly, Felicity came into the holding room and her eyes immediately found Oliver. He blinked at the sound of someone coming in, but aside from that, his face and his body remained motionless.

She closed the door behind her, leaving Anatoly in the hallway to take care of Black Siren. “Hey,” she sighed, coming around the table to kneel in front of Oliver. His face looked worse in person than it had on TV, and she gently ran her fingers over the gash on his eyebrow. “You okay?”

Oliver’s eyes finally shifted to look at her, but it was only for a moment, then he closed his eyes, not meeting her gaze. “What are you doing here?” He asked instead.

“I’m checking on my big dummy of a husband,” she teased, nudging his knee. But he didn’t smile. He opened his eyes, but only to stare at the table in front of him. She cringed, “Oliver…it wasn’t stupid, bad joke…sorry. You took a risk.”

He shook his head, “and look where it got me.”

“I know it seems bad right now-”

“Felicity,” he cut her off sharply, leveling her with a look. “I’m about to be put on trial at the hands of the most corrupt officials this city has ever seen.”

“They don’t have any solid evidence, Oliver,” she argued, her hand sliding up his thigh, trying to comfort him. “You’re the mayor and a bit of a media attention hog. There’s nothing they can do without every news station broadcasting it to the world. Diaz is an idiot…he can’t go anywhere near this trial unless he wants to be next on Samanda Watson’s list.”

He glanced down at her, “they don’t need evidence. Not real evidence, at least. Diaz can do whatever he wants. I’m sure he has a judge in his pocket that would gain a nice paycheck for this trial.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “then we’ll just have to make sure that we can prove without a doubt that you  _aren’t_ The Green Arrow.”

Her husband hesitated, glancing at her like she was crazy for a moment before he finally moved, leaning closer to her. “How are we going to do that?” He asked lowly, raising a blood-soaked eyebrow at her. “I  _am_ The Green Arrow.”

“Says who?” She asked, a slow smile spreading across her face as she got an idea. “The only photo Diaz has was fabricated.”

“I know,” Oliver mumbled, his hand finding hers, “but how are we going to prove that I’m not The Green Arrow?”

She smirked, “by showing the city who  _is_.”

He cocked his head to the side, and then his face fell, his eyebrows furrowing, “No one else is taking the fall for me, Felicity…especially not John. I let that happen with Roy, and I will never do it again. I don’t want any of this to be happening either, but we can’t let him do that. Do you hear me?” He asked, his eyes pleading, “I know you love me, and I love you too,” he rambled. “So much, honey. But I would confess to everything…before I let Dig or anyone else give up their life for me again.”

“Slow down,” she chuckled, rubbing her hands over his legs. He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes on her face as he stopped to listen. “I didn’t mean John. We have a certain friend who takes bullets for a living?” she prompted, “can make himself look like anyone we choose.”

Narrowing his eyes, he considered her words. “Christopher Chance…” he nodded, “but who? Felicity, even if you called him, even if he crashed down into the courtroom and-”

“Oh,” his wife interrupted, her eyes widening, “I like that idea.”

He sighed, because he’d meant for it to sound too dramatic, but he could already see the wheels turning in his wife’s head. “Even if we ask for his help…” He mumbled slowly, “Chance has to take on  _someone’s_ face…we’ll be putting a bounty on that person’s head. Every criminal who felt wronged by The Green Arrow will know his face. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to let anyone, not even a stranger, be a scapegoat. Are you really ready to paint a target on someone’s back like that?”

She chewed on her lip, considering his words, and he could see that she already had at least a couple of ideas. He trusted her, he really did, and he knew that she would never let someone get hurt, not even to save him.

“Hey,” he whispered, interrupting her thoughts, waiting until she met his eyes. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She smiled, nodding quickly. “Always, baby.” She said with a wink, making him shake his head, amused.

“I’m being serious here…Felicity, you were right. I should have just taken Diaz down when I had the shot. I shouldn’t have bothered with all of these games. I played right into his hand.”

“No,” she soothed, standing up just so she could move over him, taking a seat on his lap. He wrapped his one free arm around her waist, balancing her on his knee. Felicity hugged him, her arms winding around his neck, and he made sure to inhale, to take a deep breath in as her hair grazed his nose. He wasn’t sure how to tell his wife, but he was afraid of how long it’d be until he got to breathe her in again. “Oliver,” she whispered in his ear before pulling back to look at him, “you were right about Anatoly. Your plan  _worked_. He let me in, and he’s outside that door right now, making sure we’re safe in here.”

Oliver’s eyes closed at that; the slightest relief, the smallest victory in a war he shouldn’t be losing. “And we’re going to be fine, Oliver.” Her hands ran through his hair, her cheek pressing against his head as she murmured to him. He leaned into her, resting his head on her chest. “Diaz was a fool to speed up your trial. He clearly doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. You and me?” She squeezed him a little tighter, “no one has a shot against us when we’re on the same team.”

Pulling back, her husband smiled up at her. “We’re always on the same team, honey. Forever.”

She chuckled, leaning down to kiss him. As she pressed her lips against his, he slid his tongue across her lower lip, tasting her…again, out of fear he might be able to for a very, very long time. It wasn’t the time to think about that, though. “I love you,” he told her instead.

She nodded, pushing her forehead against his. “I love you, too.”

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Diaz’s voice made Felicity gasp, whirling around to look at the doorway. 

Oliver didn’t react aside from his back stiffening, but when Felicity tried to jump out of his arms as if she was going to lunge at Diaz with a sharp “you sick son of a bitch,” he gripped her tighter.

Ricardo just raised an eyebrow at his firecracker of a wife, nodding as if he was impressed with her temper. Oliver wasn’t. Her habit of antagonizing psychopaths would never be okay with him. She tried one more time to wiggle off of his lap, but he honestly had no idea what she would do, so he held tight.

With a huff, Felicity relented, her tiny hands balling into fists in her lap instead. “What do you want?” She spat, “because my husband might have one hand cuffed to this table, and you might think you’d actually have a chance at beating him without having to cheat like the scum that you are-”

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver hissed.

“I promise you’d be wrong, though.” Her eyes never left Diaz as he paced in front of the table where they sat. “He’ll kill you with one hand if he has to…” Felicity whispered, “but you’ll be especially sorry if my six inch heels happen to find themselves in your eye sockets.” She finished, flashing the man a sarcastic smile.

Diaz just watched her for a moment. Felicity’s anger was enough to make her stare back, but Oliver could see the cold and calculated assessment behind Ricardo’s eyes.

He was studying her.  _For what?_  was the question that had his heart beating a little too fast, that had his fingers gripping into her waist a little too tightly. “I’m not a monster, Miss Smoak.” Diaz said lowly. His voice and the emotionless look in his eyes said the opposite. “I have compassion for your situation. You must be frustrated and upset…to see your husband so emasculated. I’ll give you a moment to say goodbye.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as Diaz crossed his arms, backing up until he was leaning against the window. His lips twitched with a grin as he waved his hand in front of him, “go on.” He winked.

“You’re disgusting.” Felicity seethed.

Oliver sighed, “hey,” he spoke to her. Only her. Putting his index finger under her chin, he softly guided her gaze back to his own, giving her an ‘it’s okay’ smile. And then he nodded once, her eyes on his the whole time as they came to an understanding. She’d call Christopher Chance, whether he wanted her to or not. But it wasn’t a bad plan, and he trusted her to find the best way to make it work without anyone he loved suffering because of him. 

There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to kiss her while the sick freak in the corner watched, so he pressed his lips to her cheek, shifting his eyes to Diaz as Felicity hugged him one more time.

But then Oliver wondered where she was going to go. He didn’t even want her to have to pass by Diaz on her way out of the door, let alone have him leaving with her. Would he follow her home, try to hurt her? 

Oliver was just about ready to refuse to let her go, to make good on her words that he’d kill Diaz with his hand cuffed to the table if he had to.

Before he had to worry about it, the door swung open and Anatoly appeared, his hands behind his back. He was flanked by men that Oliver recognized from Russia…and he couldn’t help but smile in relief.

The Bratva were here.

“Mrs. Smoak,” Anatoly spoke with the confidence that made Oliver proud to call him a friend. The honor that made him admire him from the day they’d met. “Car is ready to take you home.”

“I drove myself,” Felicity frowned, glancing from Anatoly to Oliver.

He looked up at his wife, “let Anatoly and his men drive it, and you, home…please?” Felicity searched his eyes, finally nodding in agreement, probably hearing the desperation in his voice.

“What the hell is this?” Diaz asked, still leaning on the window as if the sight of the Russian mob wasn’t intimidating him.

Oh, but it was.

“This is Bratva, Mr. Diaz.” Anatoly said proudly, giving Diaz a smug smile.

“You said that they cast you out,” Diaz replied.

Glancing at Oliver, Anatoly winked, “Friend of mine fixed mistake, so I suggest you stay away from Queen family now.”

Ricardo’s eye actually twitched. Having The Bratva on their side, between Oliver’s contacts and Anatoly’s, they were already a step ahead of Diaz. Add in his brilliant wife and whatever she’d scheme up with Christopher Chance to drop a bomb on Diaz’s plan for the trial, and he felt more confident than he had since Diggle left the team.

He was proud, too. Of his friend and his wife. His friend, who he knew would keep Felicity safe, nodded to him in a silent promise. She was safe with Anatoly. The Bratva may be criminals themselves, but they could protect her and William. It lifted a burden from his chest to know that they could step in during his absence. And then there was his strong wife…and god, if that woman wasn’t the love of his life…she kissed his forehead before standing up and straightening her dress. 

Felicity only allowed one glance to Ricardo Diaz, her eyes shifting over him as if he was the gum on her shoe as she walked by.

The Dragon noticed, and he wasn’t backing down.

As Felicity moved past him, she was conscious not to let any part of her touch any part of him, squeezing between the table and where he stood. But Diaz grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. She froze for a moment, and Oliver did too.

Felicity tried to pull her arm away, and Diaz’s grip tightened. 

Anatoly took a step closer, and Oliver yanked on the cuffs, preparing to break his thumb and slip out of it if Diaz kept his hands on her for one more second…

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, Miss Smoak.” Diaz said, ignoring Oliver, ignoring Anatoly. His gaze and his words were focused on Felicity. “Maybe under less… _hospitable_ conditions next time.”

Felicity stared back, her own voice dropping to match Diaz’s, “wouldn’t that be unfortunate for you.”


	59. The Media Frenzy (Post 6x21)

_anonymous a sked: Hi there!! DMichellewrites told me you’d be the perfect writer for a fic like this: the moment Oliver and felicity were walking towards the court office and being photographed by the media. Something about felicity starting to panic (cause someone said something weird, or touched her) and Oliver helping her, calming her down and getting angry at the media for that._

* * *

 

“Felicity!”

“Mrs. Queen!”

“Mrs. Smoak!”

They couldn’t seem to agree on what to call her, but it didn’t stop them from screaming anyway. Felicity watched the swarm of reporters as they readied their cameras, crowding the steps in front of the courthouse and getting restless when their driver left the courthouse to get the car. She stood in front of the glass doors with William and Oliver, fidgeting at the blast of noise that came as soon as the doors opened. They closed behind him, and she was really wishing Christopher Chance was still around to cause a distraction with Tommy Merlyn’s face or something.

The walk  _out_ of Oliver’s trial was going to be so much worse than the walk  _in_.

Oliver glanced down at her as she stared out of the glass doors, watching the paparazzi work themselves into a frenzy like wild animals who had noticed their prey—her family—about to come out of the building. “Ready?” He asked near her ear, his hand gliding down her back.

She groaned as his thumb soothed slow circles on the small of her back. He could clearly sense that she was anxious, and his fingers squeezed her back tightly, letting her know she was safe. “No,” she grumbled. “I just want to be  _home_ …with you and William, watching some dumb action movie,” Felicity pouted, reaching her hand out for William. Her step-son took it, taking a deep breath as he prepared for the madness outside, too. “Dig…” she trailed off, turning to look over her shoulder, knowing that he wouldn’t be far away.

John was wandering the hallway behind them, “maybe you could help us get William out of here?” she asked.

Diggle nodded appreciatively, seeming relieved to have something helpful he could do, as if he hadn’t done enough for them already. Oliver would be in prison if it weren’t for Dig’s mission to get Christopher Chance. No matter what happened between them, having Oliver by her side in that moment was something she would never forget and never stop being grateful for.

Once they were ready to go, Raisa and William clung together, following closely behind John’s back while he pushed through the reporters.

Oliver hesitated when Felicity tugged on his hand to follow them, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. The reporters took pictures of their family leaving the courthouse, but they comfortably let them through without too much of a fight. It wasn’t a child that they were looking to bombard, anyway. Most of them stayed focused on Oliver and Felicity, waiting for them to come out.

“Let’s make sure they’re safe before we throw ourselves into that chaos.” He muttered, making her stiffen in anticipation. Oliver frowned, pulling her against his side, “sorry,” he muttered, pressing his lips into her hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” 

God, if that hadn’t been the truth since the day she’d met him…

Her husband didn’t move until they could see that William, Diggle, and Raisa were all safely in the car. 

Then he opened the doors.

And it was like hell broke loose.

The sound wasn’t just deafening because they were outside now, the  _volume_ of the mob grew louder as soon as they saw them. Cameras started flashing, reporters yelled questions at them, competing to be heard but all it did was create an irritating buzz. She could see some of them literally start to charge them,  _running_ to get in their faces, and she couldn’t help the instinctive step she took to hide behind Oliver.

He reached one hand behind him, and she took it firmly, letting him use his other arm to push the reporters back. Felicity happily kept her head down, doing her best to ignore the madness.

She understood that “Tommy” suddenly being alive after he was pronounced dead five years ago was kind of a big deal to them, but… _jeesh_.

The paparazzi  _attacked._

Their cameras were flashing in her eyes and making them hurt, causing dark spots to blur her vision. So she focused on her feet, her heart starting to race as she realized that they were barely moving. She didn’t like being in such a public and open space, not after what happened, after they’d outsmarted Diaz. She expected retaliation, but she could barely pick her head up, let alone keep an eye out for threats.

Oliver’s hand was grounding, strong and protective in hers, but tense in a way that she wasn’t used to. He didn’t like the reporters’ lack of boundaries, but he knew as well as she did that getting to the safety of the car as quickly as they could was their top priority.

Keeping her tucked safely behind his back, his fingers laced through hers, she tried to relax as she let Oliver lead the way. She trusted him to protect both of them, and to make sure that their family made it home safely. And she was glad that he was so alert and instinctive, because the flashes were disorienting and she could barely even tell where they were.

The car seemed so far away…she couldn’t even see it through the crowd. The reporters were in her face, yelling so loud in her face that her ears were starting to ring.

“Oliver!”

“Mrs. Smoak!”

“One question!”

“Look here, Felicity!”

She ignored the voices, carefully making sure she didn’t trip down the steps and make this whole nightmare even longer and more embarrassing.

Curious to know how close they were to the safety of their car, Felicity made the mistake of picking her head up. As soon as she did, she locked eyes with a reporter who was dangerously close to her personal space. He shoved his recorder in her face, “Felicity!” the man hollered in her face, getting a little too excited that she’d looked at him. The reporter invaded her space, making her shrink against Oliver’s back, the look in his eyes making her anxious.

Oliver was focused on shoving his way to the car, not noticing what was happening behind his back. Not until Felicity tried to distance herself from the reporter, finally glancing away, and the man grabbed her forearm, gripping her tightly in a desperate attempt to keep her attention.

The media was definitely desperate, competing to be the first network to break the story about Tommy. A quote from Oliver or Felicity would be a nice paycheck…but that was no excuse…because it  _hurt_. His fingers dug into her, yanking her back. Oliver didn’t realize the man had a hold of her, so she was painfully tugged in opposite directions as her husband tried to guide her to the car and the reporter refused to release his hold on her arm.

When she yelped in pain, Oliver swung around, his eyes darting to hers immediately. And then his gaze fell to the reporter’s bruising grip on his wife, and his whole body tensed, his eyes darkening. Felicity could read his expression and body language perfectly, knowing that if they weren’t in such a public place with so many cameras, the man in front of them might not have his hand still attached to his body. Or, he’d at least have a few broken fingers.

The reporter didn’t notice the look of warning on Oliver’s face, or he didn’t care. “Let go,” Oliver growled, raising an eyebrow at him, just daring the guy to test his temper.

Unfortunately, he didn’t let go, too desperate for a story to even sense the obvious threat that was her husband. Instead, the reporter blurted out his questions, speaking so quickly that she could hardly understand any of it, “did you know that Tommy Merlyn was The Green Arrow? When did you meet him? Some people in this town have speculated that you’ve been working with the vigilante for years. Your husband may be innocent of vigilantism, but are you?”  

 _Actually_ , Felicity thought,  _Oliver and Dig had taught her how to effectively snap a few bones._

She reached for the reporter’s hand, grasping his fingers roughly, catching the confusion on his face before she pulled them back. She didn’t break them, but she caused enough pain to make him back away.

When the man yelped, Felicity stepped away, right into Oliver as she pressed her palms down her dress, smoothing it out. She glanced up at her husband, seeing his face as he attempted to hide a smile. He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her temple, pride written all over him.

Oliver sighed, wrapping his arm around her this time, keeping her curled up to his side and pushing through the sea of people with his other arm.

They were  _so_ close to the car. Oliver shouted at the rest of the reporters blocking their way to back up. They were smarter, hearing the break of patience in his voice and having enough sanity not to push his limits.

Most of the people surrounding them had seen the interaction with the reporter, so they kept their distance, knowing what would happen if they crossed boundaries.

The moment they reached the car, William swung the door open from the back seat, and Oliver helped her in before climbing in behind her and closing the door. “Are you okay?” He demanded as soon as he’d closed the door.

Felicity sunk into the seat, enjoying the peace and quiet of the car, the noise of the reporters blocked out and the windows tinted enough that it felt private…at least a little bit. “Yeah,” she breathed, opening her eyes and giving Oliver a small smile.

Not satisfied, Oliver huffed, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing her fingers. He analyzed her arm as the car started to move. His eyes narrowed when they both noticed the bruise already forming. _His grip had been tight_ , Felicity frowned, sighing when Oliver’s fingers grazed her skin.  _Yeah, definitely going to hurt later._ “Not to be a baby,” she teased, pulling her hand away, “but ow.”

Her husband leveled her with a look. “I’ll find out which station he works for tomorrow.”

Felicity chuckled, “I can do that in five minutes when we get home.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “okay, go ahead. Let me know.”

She eyed him, “you’re not about to threaten to put an arrow in him, are you?”

“No,” Oliver said seriously, glancing at William and shaking his head to confirm with him, too. Violence was not in his plans. “I’m just going to get him fired and make sure he never has a hope of working for any news station from here to Gotham ever again.”

“Hm,” Felicity mused, “I seem to remember another shady reporter who deserved a bit of karma…and I remember  _you_ saying that she wouldn’t betray you.”

All he did was bite his lip, looking down at her with his very best ‘lost puppy’ expression, because there really wasn’t any point in arguing or defending Susan Williams. Rolling her eyes, Felicity leaned into him, resting her chin on his shoulder and taking a moment to just appreciate that he was there. To be happy and relieved that she could touch him, at least for now, instead of the lonely emptiness she’d been dreading if he’d been convicted. 

And then she had to burst his bubble, “you’re not getting that reporter fired.”

His eyes darted down to hers, “like hell I am. Those bruises agree with me.”

“We have bigger problems than an overeager reporter, Oliver. That guy was too high on adrenaline to even realize that you were about to punch him in the face.”

“I would have.”

Felicity laughed, “I know.”

“You broke his fingers before I could.” Oliver said proudly.

“I didn’t  _break_ them…at least I don’t think I did.” She frowned, “the point  _is_ …” Felicity argued, “you’re home. We’re all okay. And we need to enjoy it and make sure that we’re prepared for whatever comes next with Diaz.”

William and Oliver were both staring at her as she spoke, and she glanced between them, raising an eyebrow, “right?”

“Yeah,” William grumbled at the same time that his father pursed his lips and nodded with an “mm-hm” under his breath.

Felicity leaned back, lacing her fingers through Oliver’s. “Well, I think we deserve a celebratory dinner. I’m cooking.”

Oliver nodded again, but William couldn’t stop the instinctive groan that came out. Then he gasped, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth. It wasn’t Felicity that he looked at though. William’s “I’m sorry” came out muffled from behind his hand as he met Oliver’s wide eyes.

Sighing, Oliver turned to smile at her, “that sounds great,” he tried halfheartedly, to which she only rolled her eyes. “How about I help you?” He asked quickly, dropping his head to kiss her cheek.

Felicity’s mouth fell open, “oh my god, is that why you always offer to help me cook!?”


	60. Our Third Wheel Son

[Ashly1502](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fusers%2FAshly1502%2Fpseuds%2FAshly1502&t=ZGNmOGIwMmZlODNlMjJmY2E1NmQ3ZWU3YWUyODdkMTdjNWY3NmFlYixtZ29NYkY2dg%3D%3D&b=t%3AfOl6jXrwLGroyIH5zb4zrA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsmoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F173840991669%2Fashly1502-movie-night-for-the-queen-family&m=1): Movie night for the Queen Family, William sits between Oliver and Felicity leaving Oliver grumpy about not being able to cuddle with his wife OR William just getting between them in a teasing manner obviously and while Oliver gets grumpy Felicity has a nice laugh about it. Anyways, I love your style of writing and can’t wait for more :D 

_A/N: They live in the Queen mansion because I like this gif, I miss the mansion, and meh, why not?_

* * *

 

Felicity could see his bare feet up on the table as soon as she reached the stairs. She sighed, coming down the steps carefully, avoiding the annoying spot on the fifth stair that creaked loudly. 

Her husband was a mystery. He could pass out on the couch to the dull roar of a baseball game, but at the same time, he was lightest sleeper she’d ever met, and he woke up at the sound of a pin dropping.

Reaching the living room, she sat down carefully on the other side of the couch, biting back a grin at the sight of him and stretching her legs out. Oliver sighed, uncrossing his arms as she gently placed her feet in his lap. And then he groaned, wrapping his fingers around his ankles and pulling her closer. 

Felicity giggled as she slid across the cushions, situating herself in his lap. Letting Oliver wrap her up in his arms, she felt as happy as she always did when she was with him. As happy as she always would. 

Listening to her laugh, a gorgeous smile spread across his face as he looked up at her. “Hey,” he opened his eyes slowly, “how was your shower?” 

She shivered when his fingers ran through her wet hair, gliding over her shoulder and down her back. The way he looked at her also sent a shiver down her back, as if her clean face, wet hair, and pajama pants somehow made her the best thing he’d laid eyes on. As ridiculous as it seemed, she knew that if she asked him, he’d say just as much. “It was good. How was your nap?”

Oliver chuckled, “it was a long day.”

“Mm-hm,” Felicity hummed in agreement, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What I really wanted was a nice, hot shower with my wife.”

She smirked, “your son is going to be home soon.” He nodded, tucking his face into the crook of her neck and breathing her in. Her eyes closed instinctively, and Oliver pressed a small, innocent  _seeming_ kiss to her throat. 

But no. No, nope, no way. Him doing that…was never innocent. 

Felicity glanced at the clock, her hands roaming through his hair like they had a life of their own. Her husband hummed in encouragement, his lips finding their favorite spot right above her collarbone and sucking. 

Her heart picked up, “like, any minute,” she gasped. The whole reason she’d told him he couldn’t join her in the shower was because she didn’t want William to hate living in a home with two teenagers who couldn’t keep it in their pants. They were adults, damn it. And their adolescent, sweet, smart kid did not need to see them making out on the couch, either.

They could control themselves. They could do this. 

But  _god_ , she couldn’t keep her hands off of him.

“Any minute,” Oliver nodded in agreement, his nose running along her neck, making his way up to her mouth. “But not yet,” he grumbled in that irritatingly irresistible tone. He covered her in open-mouthed kisses, his tongue gliding across the skin of her throat and making her squirm. When his lips reached her jaw, he nipped at her, and she finally gave in with a huff, tilting her head down to kiss him fully.

He moaned in appreciation, cradling her head with one hand while the other worked some serious magic on her back. His fingers moved over her with calculated softness, knowing that it would only make her want him more. To touch him more. It was quickly entering that dangerous ‘can’t get close enough fast enough, don’t want to stop for anything’ territory. 

Oliver sensed it and fully agreed, because as soon as she let out a desperate whimper, he flipped her over, dropping her onto the couch and quickly finding her lips again as he crawled on top of her. 

They heard the door opening at the same time, and while Felicity froze, Oliver was moving. He hauled her up, adjusting himself to sit beside her, his arm around her. She narrowed her eyes at him as his face smoothed into careful innocence. His fingers absently fixed her make-out hair, but his eyes were focused on the baseball game in front of them. “How many times did you pull that off in high school?” She whispered as they heard footsteps down the hall.

He grinned, shaking his head. “Not once. My mother was way too perceptive.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, knowing that it was probably true. Her own mother was the opposite, and the irony of Donna walking into the room a moment later was too on point to not laugh. 

Her hair was absolutely still a mess, they were both still breathing heavily, and she was certain that she had beard burn from her chest to her lips. But Donna Smoak just smiled at them, not noticing, but looking at Felicity curiously as she tried to quiet her laughter. “Hey mom,” she stood up, hugging Donna and then ruffling William’s hair. “How was the movie?”

“It was awesome,” William answered. “Donna said she would take me out for ice cream tomorrow while you guys got ready…if you said it was okay, dad?”

Oliver shrugged, glancing up at Felicity. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Felicity will be a total bride-zilla…you’ll probably want to be far away from here, anyway.” He threw her a wink as he teased her, and she picked up the pillow beside him just to hit him with it. “Ow,” he complained, catching it on his chest. 

“Well, I wanted to spend some more time with this amazing kiddo…since Felicity said she doesn’t need my help getting ready…” Donna sighed dramatically.

“Mom,” Felicity warned, throwing her a look. “We were dress shopping yesterday for five hours. I think I can put it on myself.”

Oliver pursed his lips. He’d already tried to sneak a peek at the dress, hanging in a black garment bag in their closet, but Felicity had slapped his hand away. “Well,” Donna put her hands on her hips, “what about your hair? Your makeup?”

His wife just shrugged, looking to him for help. But he didn’t know how to respond either, so he just shrugged, too. Donna had been a little short with both of them ever since she got to town, and it was obvious from the first minute her plane had landed that she was upset about not being at their wedding.

He’d been hoping the reception they let her plan would be compensation, but Felicity had known better. She’d warned him that her mom would still be upset about it, and there was nothing they could do to make it stop unless they had Barry go back in time. She said they’d be listening to Donna complain about this for the rest of their lives. Oliver was a bit more optimistic that that wouldn’t be the case, but…

“Fine,” Felicity rolled her eyes, “after you take William out for ice cream, meet us at the hotel and I’ll let you…do my hair, or something.”

Donna clapped her hands, smiling excitedly, “and your makeup?”

Felicity groaned, “no.”

“Just your lipstick then. I hired a photographer, Felicity, you need to pick the right color that won’t make you look too pale in pictures, just let me-”

“Mom! Tomorrow, okay?” Felicity pleaded.

Snapping her lips shut, Donna chose wisely and decided not to push it, at least not until tomorrow. “Okay,” she grinned, hugging Felicity, and then William, and then Oliver. 

Felicity sunk onto the couch as her mother left, closing her eyes. Oliver laughed, moving to wrap his arm around her and pull her closer so William could sit down on the other side of her.

Before he could, William walked over and wiggled himself between them. “Game’s on?” He asked.

Oliver frowned, “yeah…” He glanced over his son’s head to find an amused smile on Felicity’s face. She didn’t seem to mind, pulling a blanket from the side of the couch and curling up in it. 

After watching the game for a few minutes, William got up and stretched, asking them if they wanted anything before heading for the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight, Oliver grabbed Felicity and pulled her against his side. She chuckled, “what do you think that was about?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver shrugged, kissing her cheek, and then her temple, and then her ear. He sighed happily, dropping his lips to her shoulder and picking up her hand. He held it out in front of them, giving himself a moment to gaze at the ring on her finger as if he still couldn’t believe it was there.

It caught her off guard at times, too. Her decision to marry him had been spontaneous and a long time coming, all in the same moment. It was kind of  _exactly_ who they were. And she loved it. She loved everything about him and their relationship, from the day she’d met him, through some of the hardest and most painful times in her life…because it had gotten them here. And here was  _perfect_. She’d dreamed about this,  _here_ …wanted it more than anything.

She didn’t have it in her to feel guilty about the way they got married. Not even for her mother. She was far too happy. “I love you,” she told him effortlessly; with no swords hanging above their heads, no fear that she’d never see him again, no people they were trying to trick into kidnapping her…no other reason to say it besides the fact that it was true.

He smiled, hearing the same sincerity and simplicity in her voice. “I love you, too,” he replied, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose.

Pressing her forehead to his, Felicity sighed, smiling at him, because it was impossible not to these days.

“What’s the score?” William asked, coming back into the room.

Oliver pulled back as William approached the couch, “uh, twelve to ten.” He replied as his son wiggled between them in an extremely  _not_ casual way. He dropped his arm from his wife’s shoulder, making room for William. “Buddy…” he trailed off, too confused to form a question.

Taking a sip of his soda, William ignored him, “I like your mom, Felicity. She’s really cool.”

“Yeah, she is,” Felicity answered, raising her eyebrows and trying not to laugh as she readjusted. Oliver leveled her with a look, not finding nearly as much amusement in this as she was. “I’m glad you’re having fun with her, William.”

“Me too,” his son answered, nodding. “So,” he tossed his feet up onto the coffee table, crossing his ankles just like his father had been positioned a few minutes before. “Why didn’t you invite her to the wedding?”

“Oh,” Felicity frowned now, all of the cheerfulness dropping from her expression. “Not you too,” she groaned.

Shrugging, William glanced between them, “I’m just saying, it would have been nice to have your friends and family at your wedding. Or at least your mom. I’m sure Donna would have liked to walk you down the aisle. And see you in a  _real_ wedding dress.”

Felicity cupped William’s face in her hands, “oh my god,” she gasped, pulling his face to look at her, “did she brainwash you? What has she done to you!?”

Now it was Oliver’s turn to find the humor here. “Buddy, did she tell you to say that?”

“No,” William’s eyebrows furrowed, “she just said it so many times that it stuck in my head.”

“Brainwashed!” Felicity exclaimed, pointing at William, her eyes widening as she met Oliver’s gaze. 

“Uh, so, is that what… _this_ is all about?” Oliver stuttered, gesturing to William wedged between them.

“Oh no,” William shook his head, “Donna told me that married people need to go on honeymoons for a reason. And you guys don’t have any plans to leave yet.”

“Well,” Felicity interjected, confusion crossing her face that matched Oliver’s. “There’s a lot going on right now, William. But we will, in the future, eventually,” she caught Oliver’s cringe. “ _Soon_ ,” she corrected herself. “Wait,” she cocked her head to the side, “my mother didn’t…what did she tell you about honeymoons?”

Oliver choked on his breath, coughing as he squirmed uncomfortably. “Um…maybe we should-”

“She told me you guys keep kissing all the time because you need alone time. She said that’s why married people take honeymoons.”

“Oh, William, no…” Felicity sighed, “we don’t want to be alone. We love having you here. This is your home, too. And it’s not like there’s not enough room for the three of us. Gosh, this mansion is nicer than most of the places your dad and I stayed at during this one summer. We were traveling, and we just picked whatever place had vacancies along the way and oh my god, you should have seen the size of the  _bugs_ this one campground had, I mean, it was-”

“Honey,” Oliver pinched his lips together.

“Right, okay…the point is, we can take a honeymoon whenever we want. We’re going to be married for the rest of our lives,” she patted William’s shoulder, “and we’re going to be in  _your_ life for the rest of our lives. So, we’ll cool it with the PDA, sound good?”

William nodded, “yeah, maybe just not in the kitchen, okay? Dad keeps burning dinner.”

Felicity bit her lip to keep from laughing, because it was true. Oliver kept trying to have dinner ready by the time William got home from his study groups or club meetings. But when Felicity came home from work, she had other ideas that didn’t involve knives or hot stoves. But they usually involved the kitchen counter. 

That one was her fault. Her bad. “Okay,” she nodded, “I think that’s a fair request.”

“And can we please try to get me to school before the bell rings, at least sometimes?”

 _That_ one was Oliver’s bad. All his fault. She was still asleep when he woke up in the morning, and her husband could easily sneak out of bed and get his son to school on time…but he always had to kiss her, and then she’d wake up and… well…

Felicity raised an eyebrow at Oliver, who  _blushed_. “Yes,” he nodded seriously. “Being to school on time is important and-we will-yeah…we’ll make sure that happens.”

“Okay,” William shrugged, standing up from the couch, “I’m pretty tired. Make sure you get plenty of sleep, the reception is tomorrow.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting until they both nodded in agreement. “Goodnight, dad. Night, Felicity.”

“Goodnight, buddy.” Oliver smiled awkwardly.

“See you tomorrow,” Felicity answered as he headed up the stairs. Then she turned to her husband, sharing a disbelieving look with him. “We just got reprimanded by a twelve year old.”

Oliver groaned, “ _he_ just parented  _us_ …for acting like teenagers.”

Felicity snorted, sliding across the couch and climbing onto his lap. “It’s cute that he thinks this is a newlywed thing.”

He grinned up at her, “mmm…I’ll still want you when we’re eighty. Joke’s on him,” Oliver gripped her hips, “ _this_ is never gonna get old.”

Leaning down, Felicity rubbed her nose against his, “good. But we really should try harder not to burn dinner every night. Super irresponsible.”

“True,” Oliver whispered back, letting his lips rest against hers as he spoke, “and he definitely needs to be to school on time. That’s important.”

Felicity nodded, lodging her fingers into his hair and rolling her hips into his. “Agreed.” Oliver hummed, finally kissing her, and continuing to kiss her as he stood up from the couch and carried her up the stairs, all the way to bed.


	61. Canon Divergence 6x22

anonymous  asked: Hi! Could you possibly write a speculation fic for 6x22? I'm curious how you'll interpret the synopsis.

_I’m so sorry I didn’t get to this on time. How about some canon divergence instead? ;) Also fulfilling this prompt because it’s pretty close to what I was speculating before 6x22 aired. P.S Diaz does hurt Felicity, but torturing them in front of each other didn’t quite strike my muse. Hope ya still like it, anon!_

_Anonymous said: prompt: diaz kidnaps oliver and felicity, and tortures both of them in front of each other. (feel free to take/change the prompt anyway you desire!!)_

* * *

 

He’d known something was wrong ever since he suggested breakfast for dinner. His son happily agreed, asking if he could help cook. But Felicity had pursed her lips, heading into their bedroom to change. When she came out, she’d been just as quiet, barely looking at him while she cut up the fruit and set the table.

Oliver wasn’t sure where to start. Of course, there was plenty for them to talk about. There was a lot of work left to be done if they wanted to take down Diaz. He just wasn’t sure why Felicity was so consumed with it…why they couldn’t take a break to enjoy something together…why she wanted to jump into things  _right now_. They deserve to celebrate their wins, however scarce they are, and he’d thought Felicity would be on board for that idea.

It isn’t until he asks her for the salt that she snaps. Well, she doesn’t snap…but she does level him with a look that is perfectly clear. She is  _not_ happy with him. When she finally gets her feelings off of her chest, effectively cutting the tension and clearing William out of the room to give them privacy, Oliver watches her calmly.

“First, I will stop him,” Oliver promises confidently, staring at her over the counter. “Second,” he says, rubbing his hands together and coming around the barrier so he can touch her, running his hands over her hips and stepping closer. “I am in here scrambling eggs because I just wanted a night—one night—to remind myself what I am fighting for.”

“Okay,” Felicity cocks her head to the side, running her fingers through her hair as she leans into him more, “I guess I can compartmentalize that.”

He wraps his arms around her, “I can help you with that,” he whispers lowly before kissing her.

Felicity leans back, running her hands up his arms and over his shoulders. His hand finds the back of her neck, and he tilts her head back, leaning over her as he glides his tongue across her bottom lip. She smiles into his mouth as she opens for him, letting him know that it’s working.  _Celebrating_ … Oliver quickly spins her around, pressing her back against the kitchen counter.

She’s thoroughly distracted as she slowly lets her fingers roam over his face, gently enough that he knows she’s trying to avoid his scars. He doesn’t notice them though, nor does he care in that moment. So he kisses her harder, picking her up and setting her on one of the tall stools, bringing her to his height and stepping between her legs.

His phone starts to buzz, and he intentionally ignores it so he can brush her hair over her shoulder, moving his lips to her neck. Felicity holds onto him tightly, her breath coming out in those familiar, gorgeous, uneven pants, “you gonna get that?” She asks, pulling him closer and making it clear that neither of them want him to.

He shakes his head, “I’m good.”

“Oliver…” He can hear the hesitation in her voice, and he pulls his head back to look at her face, watching as she bites her lip, her eyes darting down the hallway, towards William’s closed door. He can tell what she’s thinking, but her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, and she looks as if she is seriously considering saying “screw it.” Letting out a growl from the back of his throat, he takes her chin between his fingers and pulls her lips back to his.

She kisses him back without question, and he slides one hand down her body, slowing down when he reaches the waistband on her jeans. The way she spreads her legs and whimpers makes him smile wickedly, pressing his body against hers, making sure she’s steady on the chair before he slides his fingers lower, pressing them between her legs. He teases her, and when she groans in frustration, he raises an eyebrow. Long gone is the stiff, focused look on her face, replaced with the most beautiful anticipation behind her furrowed brow.

It’d been three whole days since he’d seen her naked, and it suddenly hits him how irritating that is, especially knowing that it could have been so much longer. They have much more celebrating to do.

William chooses that moment to open his door, his footsteps coming down the hall. Oliver doesn’t let go of his wife, but he moves his hands to the counter on either side of her, a safer place. “Dad?” William asks as he comes into the kitchen. “What’s burning?”

Oliver jolts back, rushing to the stove, cursing under his breath. Felicity’s giggling, “jeez Oliver, you’re usually more observant than that.”

He pinches his lips together as he throws the burnt pan into the sink, glancing up at her with an ‘I was distracted, and so were you’ look that she reads perfectly, grinning back.

“I’m hungry.” William chimes in.

Nodding, Oliver opens the fridge and pulls out the carton of eggs for a second attempt, “just a few more minutes.”

His phone starts to ring again, and Oliver sighs. He fully intends to ignore it for the second time, cracking more eggs into a new pan. “Oliver,” Felicity clips, her tone an octave higher, making him turn around. Her eyebrows are pushed together as she holds up his phone, revealing Anatoly’s name on the screen.

He forgets about the eggs again, grabbing the phone from her hand and answering it. “Oliver,” Anatoly rushes before he has a chance to say anything. “Get out of there. Get out  _now,_ Kapushion _.”_

It’s not hard to set his instincts off, he knows a threat when he hears one. He also knows Anatoly well enough to hear the fear in his voice. His mind races for a full five seconds as Anatoly hangs up abruptly, wondering  _what_ exactly is coming and how soon, where they’ll be safe. His head is reeling, but it boils down to a simple question. Run or hide? Which option will keep his family safe from the threat Anatoly just blew the whistle on?

The movement he sees on the balcony makes him freeze, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. And he knows that his fear has paralyzed him for five seconds too long.

He lunges for William, pushing him a little too harshly down the hallway, “go! Go! Get in your room!” He yells, already turning for Felicity. She’s off the stool, and he outstretches his arms to her even though she’s already coming towards him. “Go with him, hide.”

“What’s going on, Oli-”

Bullets fill their apartment, and he grabs his wife, dropping to the floor on top of her before pulling her behind the kitchen counter. “Diaz,” he tells her through the sound of machine guns being fired, his hands covering her head to protect her. He knows they have to move fast, but he meets her eyes, nodding once in a silent understanding. Bullets are flying around them, and they’ll only be safe in the kitchen for another few seconds.

“Now!” He yells to her, jumping up and disarming the closest masked man he sees. He takes the gun, focusing it on the rest of the infiltrating officers, but sneaking a glance at his wife to make sure that she’s on her way to William’s room. He takes at least five of them down, but five more are coming in through the window and front door, and it’s not just him that they’re after.

They know where his family is, and some of them ignore him completely, heading for his son’s room as if they know exactly where to find them. He takes down the three men in the living room, one more in the hallway, and then shoots the last one in the shoulder just as the man is opening the door to William’s room.

The first thing he sees is Felicity’s head pop up from behind William’s bed, her arms around his son, protecting him from whatever came through the door. It adds an extra break in his focus, chipping off a piece of his rationality. The man he’d shot in the doorway of William’s bedroom is writhing, and he steps over him, using the sliding door to knock him out completely.

He swivels his gun around the room, making sure none of Diaz’s men snuck in without him noticing. “Are you two okay?” He asks desperately, aiming his gun at the doorway. None of his shots were kills, and he can’t hear a single sound in the apartment. Yet the knot in his stomach, triggered by something instinctive and real, is making it hard to breathe. He’s unable to take his eyes off the door. Because there’s more…he can  _feel_ it. “Felicity!”

“Yes!” He hears her answer, “we’re both fine!”

“Are they dead?” William’s voice cuts through his focus.

“No,” Oliver answers, “they’re unconscious, though” he finishes under his breath. The last thing he wants is to have to pick up dead bodies from their floor, for his son to have to see that in his home. “Stay here, and stay down,” he tells his family, slowly opening the door again and holding his gun out in front of him as he steps over the cop at his feet and sweeps through the apartment.

Counting the men as he goes, Oliver is certain that they’re all accounted for. He remembers shooting each one, and they’re all knocked out where he left them. Oliver grabs his phone from the counter, dialing and holding it to his ear with one hand and keeping his gun raised with the other. “Oliver,” Dig answers on the second ring, “Diaz’s men just attacked the hospital.”

“They were here, too.”

“Are you all okay?” John asks.

“Yeah. You guys?”

“We’re good. They must have hit Rene, Curtis, and Dinah, too. We should check in.”

“Dig, something doesn’t feel right.” The hair on the back of his neck is still standing up, there’s no moment of relief that usually follows a fight, telling him that it’s over. The weight is still there. The more he thinks about it, the more he panics. “William!?” He yells, rushing back to the bedroom. “Felicity!”

“What is it?” John asks in his ear, but he drops his phone as he rushes towards his son’s room. William is standing against the wall, and the officer who stands in front of him looks familiar, and he is definitely in Diaz’s pocket. Oliver quickly takes in the threat, not letting his emotion or his thoughts show. The cop isn’t armed, at least not with a weapon that he can see…which means he’ll have plenty of time to take him out before he can even try to hurt his son. But still, he hesitates.

“Hello, Oliver,”

Swinging his gun toward the corner of the room, Oliver recognizes Ricardo’s voice immediately. His attention had been tunneled on the sight of William in danger, but apparently he was only being detained.

The real threat is here.

Diaz. Standing behind his wife. With a knife pressed to her throat.

Oliver takes a deep, calming breath. Losing his grip was not going to help, but he swears his vision actually blurs as fear hits him. Ricardo might be a pathetic coward, but he is a pathetic coward who has the ability to murder his wife in a matter of seconds. And that is an incredibly terrifying thing to be faced with. Always.

Part of him wants to drop his gun and beg, but the bigger part of him knows that it would be pointless. So he straightens his arm, training his gun on Diaz’s head. But somehow, Ricardo knows the exact spot that the bullet would land, and he shifts… _hiding_ behind Felicity. He can’t look at her. Seeing her face in this moment would be too much. “Let her go.”

“No,” Diaz mumbles, moving Felicity’s hair over her shoulder, pushing it back so he can run his fingers over her neck. “I don’t think I will. I think I’ll keep her. You want to come home with me, love?”

Oliver can’t help but look at Felicity now, watching as she squeezes her eyes shut, her hands in tight fists at her sides. “Never, you sick son of a bitch.” Felicity seethes.

Diaz chuckles, “you’ll regret that, sweetheart.”

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.” Oliver hisses through his teeth. Diaz will bleed out in this room before he makes it out that door with Felicity.

Ricardo lifts his head, nodding towards William and his lackey. The officer moved while Oliver was distracted, holding William in front of him, a gun to his son’s head. “Oh,” Oliver’s voice breaks as much as his heart does, but he doesn’t move. He has to  _think_. Reacting without thinking will be what gets his wife and son killed, right here in their home.

He’s never doubted his ability to save someone more than in that moment…with the two most important people in his world at risk.

The cop won’t shoot without Diaz’s word to do so. The logical side of him knows that, but the emotional side just wants to kill them, because William looks just as scared as Felicity does.

His entire life is in this room. These two people who he loves more than anything, and both of their lives are being threatened. “You’re going to have to choose, Oliver.” Diaz drones, a small, devilish smile on his face as he presses his cheek against Felicity’s. “You can kill me right now, but as soon as you do, there will be a bullet in your son’s head. Or you can take the smarter option. “Let my friend here get the kid out of your hair, and you, me, and your wife can settle this.”

The idea of William going anywhere with the cop, anywhere he can’t see him, makes him growl. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, your choices are limited here, Oliver. I say the word, and your son dies. And so does your wife. Even if you manage to stop it, you can’t save both of them…oh,” his eyes light up as he looks at the officer, “that actually seems like it could be interesting.” Diaz’s hand forms around Felicity’s throat,  _squeezing_ , and it takes every ounce of restraint Oliver has not to shoot him in the head, to test the threat. Would an officer, even a dirty one, really kill a kid if Ricardo Diaz died? “Maybe we should see how that ends,” Diaz finishes, loosening his hold on Felicity.

With those words, Oliver hears the cop cock his gun, and Oliver suddenly knows that it’s not a bluff. If he kills Diaz, William will die. “No! Okay, okay… William leaves the room…but he stays close…and I’ll do what you want.” He grits his teeth as he speaks, because he remembers vividly how dirty of a fighter Diaz is. But it’s not like he has a choice.

He’d been given ultimatums like this before. The last time he was faced with a decision like this, his mother was killed. And before that, Shado. Oliver really doesn’t want to take that risk. He can’t bear to make a gamble when the two most important people in his life are at stake.

Once William is gone, Diaz pulls out a pair of cuffs and throws them at Oliver’s feet. “Go ahead.”

Diaz seems to relax as Oliver tosses his gun aside and sits down on the bed. He’s grateful for cuffs because it’ll take him less than ten seconds to get the restraints off, but Felicity still has a knife to her throat, so he can’t relax. 

He just needs Diaz to get the hell away from Felicity, and this will be over. He can take the cuffs off and end this.

Instead, Ricardo drags the knife down her neck, all the way to her chest, and Oliver jumps to his feet. “Eh, eh, eh” Diaz warns as Felicity catches her breath, refusing to give Diaz the satisfaction of seeing how painful it was. He holds out the knife at Oliver as he steps towards them, a drop of his wife’s blood falling to the floor.

“What hurts more, do you think?” Ricardo ponders, his voice full of conceited amusement. “Me killing her in front of you? Or you in front of her?”

Felicity meets Oliver’s eyes as the blade hangs between them and it becomes clear that Diaz doesn’t plan on letting either of them walk out of that room alive. “You’re an idiot,” she whispers to him, giving her husband a small smile. “Oliver could kill you handcuffed, if he has to.”

He keeps his gaze on Felicity, but he can see Diaz’s face fall out of the corner of his eye. And it’s with her nod that Oliver moves. He easily knocks the knife out of Diaz’s hand in the same moment that Felicity’s elbow jabs behind her as hard as she can, colliding with Diaz’s gut. Her elbow was hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and Oliver doesn’t hesitate as Diaz stumbles back, bringing his boot down on the man’s chest and kicking him into the wall.

As Diaz slumps to the floor, Oliver reaches for Felicity, checking over the scar from Ricardo’s blade.  _The placement of the injury makes it look worse than it actually is_ , he has to tell himself. The wound is superficial and hopefully won’t leave a mark behind, but it  _looks_ like there’s so much blood. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she assures him, and he can tell that the bleeding is already stopping, so he knows she’s right. But the finger shaped bruises forming on her throat are just as alarming.

Oliver doesn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he’ll have to bandage up his wife later. That she’ll have the shape of Diaz’s hand on her neck for weeks. He tries not to notice the way her glasses are crooked, or how her blonde hair is sticking to the blood on her neck. Instead, he closes in on Diaz, searching for a key to the cuffs. “Can’t you dislocate your thumb or something?” Felicity whispers.

He finds the key, “I’d prefer to do it the easy way, honey,” he says incredulously, tossing the handcuffs on top of Diaz.

“Right,” she agrees, nodding and fidgeting with her bloodstained shirt. He grabs her hand and then his gun off of the floor, leaving Diaz to go find William, prioritizing his family’s safety over vengeance or even justice.

Felicity trails behind him, her hand gripping his tightly as they make their way back into the kitchen. Oliver pauses at the edge of the hallway, waiting a moment to take in his surroundings. The men littering their apartment are still passed out, and Diaz’s right hand cop has William sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. The cop’s back is to them as he picks through the bowl of strawberries Felicity had cut up.

When his wife notices what he’s doing, her jaw drops, and Oliver can see the insult on her face, as if eating her strawberries is the rudest thing to happen in this apartment tonight. Oliver tugs on her arm, making sure she’s out of sight, and they catch William’s attention. He tilts his head carefully toward them, and Oliver’s heart melts that despite the gruesome turn of events, his son is fighting a smile. As if he expected this. As if his son knew that he would be there to keep him safe.

Felicity gives him a small wave, and William nods back seriously. 

The sound of someone groaning has them both turning to look at the officer on the floor. Oliver had improvised with a fork, and the man starts gripping at his chest, moving to take the utensil out. He’s making too much noise, but before Oliver can react, Felicity jumps toward him, punching him in the face. She hits the guy hard enough to knock him back out, but she also wasn’t quite familiar with how hard someone’s face is. Her jaw drops as a surprised, “ow!” escapes her lips.

Diaz’s henchman turns around at the sound, and again, Oliver readies himself to lunge. 

This time it’s his son who moves faster. William picks up one of the large serving plates on the counter and the next thing they know, he’s breaking the dish over the officer’s head, making him drop unconscious on their kitchen floor. “Oh!” Felicity shouts, running towards William, “oh, my god. Where did you learn that?”

“You always tell me not to watch the monitors in the bunker,” William answers, “but then you get distracted and I definitely watch the monitors. I saw John do that with a lamp once.”

“Oh  _yeah_ …” Felicity remembers, nudging William, “that was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”

“Felicity, are you okay?” William asks, his eyes widening at the blood on her chest. She nods, assuring him that she’s fine, and then Oliver is clearing his throat and reminding them that they really should be getting out of there before Diaz and his goons woke up.

Neither of them argue, and he leads them both towards the door. “Oliver Queen!” Diaz’s voice cuts through the apartment, and Oliver shoves them a little faster.

“What’s that noise?” Felicity asks, her eyes widening as they all start to hear the low hissing sound, like air being let out of tires.

When he turns around, Oliver sees Diaz in a mask, two gas bombs in either hand, filling the hallway in a thick smoke. “Go!” Oliver yells, “go, go, I’m right behind you!” He makes sure that they’re ahead of him, pushing through the apartment towards the door. But it’s not just the bombs in his hands that cause a problem.

“Oliver,” Felicity mumbles, pointing up at the vents, where more gas is coming through. He’s rigged their whole building, because even once they make it out the front door, the smoke is getting thicker when it should be easier to breathe. He leads his family toward the stairwell, rushing them to get down the stairs and out of the building. He can hear Diaz yelling from behind them, following them through the complex, and he doesn’t even want to think about how many people he’s killing with the gas, how many of them won’t make it out in time.

His head is light, and William and Felicity are moving much slower than they had been by the time they reach an exit, but Oliver shoves through the door, finally taking in a deep breath of fresh air as he guides them into the alley, turning to his family. William is pale, but he’s on his feet. Felicity is leaning against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

“Hey, hey!” Diggle is standing near an A.R.G.U.S van at the front of the building, and he comes running down the alley when he sees them, “we got here just as the gas was released. Lyla has a team in there evacuating people. We were just about to come in and find you guys.”

Oliver nods, “Diaz is right behind us, we need to go.”

“No,” Felicity disagrees, “he’s  _here_ , Oliver. We can’t just let him walk!” They really don’t have time to debate, but he hesitates in surprise. He’s always known Felicity’s strength, but she’s bleeding and struggling to breathe, she should be the last one arguing to keep fighting right now.

“We’ll get him, Felicity. But not like this, not now.” He approaches her, slipping his shoulders under her arm and helping her to start moving.

“Van’s parked out front,” Diggle tells them, putting a hand on William’s shoulder and keeping his head on a swivel.

Once they’re safely in the van, Oliver tries to relax. He gets a closer look at the cut on Felicity’s chest, telling Lyla that he wants her and William checked out when they get back to A.R.G.U.S.

Then the topic of safe houses comes up, and Oliver immediately asks that Raisa, William, and Felicity be brought somewhere out of Star City. “No way,” his wife snaps before Lyla can answer.

He glances up at her, his eyes pleading, but she just shakes her head. Oliver leans closer, trying to create some kind of privacy, “I know this has been a tough night, but I need you somewhere safe-”

“I’m not going anywhere, Oliver,” she interrupts, her voice full of conviction. “I’m staying with you.”

“Felicity…” he sighs, picking up her hand and kissing her fingers, hoping his softness will persuade her but knowing it won’t. “Why is taking down Diaz so important to you?” He mumbles.

They both know what he’s asking.  _Why is he different?_

Adrian Chase had killed Billy Malone, and Felicity dove headfirst into revenge, flirting with a line of morality and coming close to crossing it. Diaz, though…he was no Prometheus, to say the least. “I could kill him handcuffed,” Oliver teased, his humor coming out as forced as the smile he gave her, “you said so yourself.”

Felicity sighs, turning her hands over and lacing her fingers through his. “I know…but it  _is_ personal, Oliver. He doesn’t just want to control the city. He tried to kill us. In our  _home_. With…William…” she trails off, shaking her head. “He almost took you away from us. He wants to tear our family apart, and I need to be here to make sure he doesn’t…just as much as you do.”

Nodding slowly, Oliver relents. It terrifies him to have her in danger, but being away from her is worse. He knows from experience. He needs Felicity in so many different ways and on so many different levels. “Okay,” he whispers to her, “we’ll get Diaz together.” They’re so much better together. In every sense.


End file.
